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THE NORFOLK 
BOY SCOUTS 





“Gradually forgetfulness stole over him.” 





THE NORFOLK 
BOY SCOUTS 


BY 

MARSHALL JENKINS 

o 

AUTHOB OF_“A FBESHMAN SCOUT AT COLLEGE,” ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED BY 
WALT LOUDERBACK v 


D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
NEW YORK LONDON 


1916 


/ 




OCT -2 1916 


Printed in the United States of America 


©GI.A408e8S 

Vmj C 1 '' ' 


STANLEY E. BATES 

THE ORIGINAL OF RAY CLARK 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


PAGE 

I. 

Flunked ! 

• 

1 

II. 

Boy Scouts on the Trail 

• 

. 13 

III. 

The Runaway’s Home coming . 

• 

. 30 

IV. 

The Start .... 

• 

. 52 

V. 

A Clue 

• 

. 66 

VI. 

The Encampment at Rosebank 

• 

. 82 

VII. 

Rescuing a Kidnapped Boy 

• 

. 102 

VIII. 

A Capture .... 

• 

. 117 

IX. 

The Hike to Portland . 

/ * 

. 134 

X. 

Portland and Norfolk Scouts 


. 154 

XI. 

The Train Hold-up 

• 

. 169 

XII. 

A “Bully” Time 

• 

. 186 

XIII. 

Another Capture . 


. 202 

XIV. 

Reinforcements Arrive . 

• 

. 216 

XV. 

The Vacant House 

• 

, 236 

XVI. 

The Expressman . 

• 

. 251 

XVII. 

The Factory Whistle . 

• 

. 270 

XVIII. 

A Little Excitement 

• 

. 283 

XIX. 

Playing the Game . 

• 

. 297 













1 




























LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


“Gradually, forgetfulness stole over him” . . Frontispiece 

FACING 

PAQH 

“Tire out! Fire out! Fire out!' he screamed at the 


top of his lungs” 44 

“The two boys rushed blindly for their only hope 
of safety” 194 

“With a thrill both of horror and hope, he . . . felt 

it all over with his blistered hands” 302 



THE NORFOLK BOY 
SCOUTS 


CHAPTER I 
FLUNKED! 

R AYMOND E. CLARK, JR., age thir- 
teen, rose from his seat in the school 
^ examination room, walked up the aisle 
to the teacher’s desk, and handed in his 
examination paper. Then he took up his 
cap and a couple of school books from the 
table where they had lain during the last 
hour and a half, and went quietly out into 
the corridor, closing the door carefully behind 
him. 

He had scarcely reached the front porch of 
the grammar school building when he was 
joined by another boy of about his own age, 
but slighter and with rather light yellow hair. 
Ray’s own hair was a dark red — almost black 
1 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


• — and he had a small, but not very noticeable, 
colony of freckles around the upper part of his 
nose. 

4 ‘Hello, Ray!” greeted the newcomer. 

“ Hello,’ ’ returned Ray, not very enthusias- 
tically. Cicely, or Sissy, Smith was his cousin 
and lived next door to him, but beyond that 
the two boys really had very little in com- 
mon. Ray was strong for his age, very vigor- 
ous and daring, and fond of strenuous sports. 
Sissy was a frailer, quieter boy with a liking 
for study which Ray did not possess. Until 
he had joined Troop Two of the Norfolk Boy 
Scouts, Sissy had been bashful, reserved, and 
even timid. 

“Wasn’t the geography exam, a cinch!” he 
continued joyfully. 

“Glad you think so!” responded Ray. “I 
flunked it.” 

“What!” cried Sissy in astonishment. 
“Why, it was dead easy!” 

“I couldn’t answer more than seven out of 
the !en questions — and two of those weren’t 
right.” 

‘ ‘ Why, what was the matter with you ? ’ ’ asked 
Sissy. “I answered the whole ten without half 
2 


FLUNKED! 


trying; and I could have done more if there ’d 
been any. Were you sick?” 

‘ 4 My head ached so I couldn ’t think straight, ’ ’ 
returned Ray gloomily. “I must have eaten 
something last night that didn ’ t like me. May- 
be it was the ice-cream sodas down at Joe the 
Guinea’s. I drank six of them in twenty min- 
utes on a dare.” 

“If you’ve really flunked it, you won’t 
be able to get into high school next fall with 
the rest of the crowd, will you?” pursued 
Sissy. 

“No,” responded Ray. “I flunked it all 
right!” 

“Then you won’t be able to play on the Nor- 
folk High football team either,” continued the 
other, whose interests in athletics were keen, 
although rather unscientific. 

“I don’t care anything about that!” re- 
marked Ray, unguardedly. 

“You don’t!” exclaimed Sissy. “Why, I 
thought you were crazy about it ! ” 

“So I am; but there’s something else 
too.” 

“What’s that?” inquired Sissy, whose prin- 
cipal failing was inquisitiveness. 

3 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

Ray did not mind being confidential with bis 
cousin. 

i 1 Well, you know how father’s fixed for 
money,” he finally said. “I won’t be able to go 
to college now.” 

“Why won’t you? It will be one year later, 
that’s all.” 

“That’s the trouble. I won’t be able to fin- 
ish until after I’m twenty-one, and I’ve got to 
be supporting myself by that time.” 

“You’ll have three years of it though, 
anyway,” declared Sissy, with the con- 
scious superiority of one who had never been 
known to flunk an exam. “That ought to be 
enough. ’ ’ 

“Well, it isn’t! I was going to take the 
course in mining engineering, and that’s a four- 
year course.” 

“What do you want to take an old thing like 
that for?” inquired Sissy, whose own tastes 
lay along artistic or clerical lines. “You’d 
have to work like the dickens ! ’ ’ 

“That’s why I want it,” returned Ray. 

Sissy opened his mouth in astonishment. 

“You like work!” he cried. 4 ‘Say, that’s a 
good one ! ’ ’ 


4 


FLUNKED! 


Ray looked at him with the air of an exas- 
perated St. Bernard dog regarding a toy 
spaniel who has offended him. 

4 4 What do you mean?” he finally asked. 

4 4 If you’re so fond of work why don’t you 
study once in a while?” demanded Sissy, with 
the freedom of a cousin. 4 4 You never do any 
jobs around the house if you can help it, 
either ! ’ ’ 

4 4 That sort of thing isn’t real work!” an- 
swered Ray, contemptuously. 44 I want to do 
something worth while ! ’ ’ 

4 4 Well, there are lots of other things besides 
engineers,” went on Sissy. 4 4 There are doc- 
tors, and lawyers, and ministers, and ” 

4 4 Bosh ! ’ ’ retorted Ray expressively. 4 4 They 
don ’t count. Engineering is a man ’s sized job!” 

4 4 Your other uncle has a mine out in Mex- 
ico, or some place, hasn’t he?” questioned 
Sissy. 4 4 Why don’t you go out there and 
learn?” 

4 4 Father wouldn ’t let me, ’ ’ replied Ray. 4 4 Be- 
sides, you’ve got to get the training first to be 
any good.” 

4 4 How are you going to get it if you can’t go 
to college?” questioned Sissy, pertinently. 

5 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“I don’t know!” confessed Ray. “But I’m 
going to get it somehow!” 

“Maybe Uncle Dick would let you go out to 
Mexico, if you asked him nicely,” suggested 
Sissy. “That would be better than nothing — 
and it would be good fun, too.” 

“You bet it would be great sport!” agreed 
Ray enthusiastically. “..Only I’m pretty sure 
father wouldn’t let me. He thinks I’m not old 
enough to take care of myself, I guess. Hello ! 
What’s up?” 

A badly frightened child of five or six years 
of age was running towards them, screaming 
with terror. Close at its heels came a large 
mongrel dog, snapping and frothing at the 
mouth. Behind him again, but at a safe dis- 
tance, was a small mob of excited people, wav- 
ing sticks and brooms and shouting, “Mad 
dog!” 

Just as they came abreast of Ray and his 
companion, the child glanced back over its 
shoulder, saw that the dog was almost upon it, 
and with another terrorized scream attempted 
to dodge. Instead, it tripped on a slightly pro- 
jecting paving stone and went sprawling. 

Ray was both impetuous and courageous. 

6 


FLUNKED! 


With one bound, he sprang forward, snatched 
up the child, tossed it to a place of safety, and 
then flung himself sharply to one side to escape 
the onrushing animal. 

Sissy Smith was neither impetuous nor cour- 
ageous by nature. His Boy Scout training, how- 
ever, stood him in good stead. As soon as he 
realized the danger, he almost instinctively 
stripped off his coat; and as the dog checked 
itself sharply to turn upon Ray, he flung the 
coat over the animal's head. Then he gave a 
well-directed kick under the jaw and the beast 
fell limp onto the sidewalk. A policeman, who 
had been among the crowd of pursuers, came 
up and put an end to things with his revolver. 

Ray Clark had picked himself up quickly. 
Now he turned to Sissy. 

“Let’s get out of here before all this gang 
comes up,” he proposed. 

Sissy followed him at a run around the near- 
est corner. Then Ray looked at him almost 
with respect. 

“That was a pretty good trick!” he de- 
clared. “Where did you learn it?” 

“Boy Scouts,” replied Sissy promptly. 
1 ‘ They teach us a whole lot of things like that . 9 9 
7 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Ray, without really knowing much about 
it, had conceived a good, healthy contempt 
for Boy Scouts — partly because Sissy belonged 
to them. 

“Aw, they aren’t any good!” he remarked 
scornfully. “They’re just a bunch of molly- 
coddles!” 

“They are not!” retorted Sissy angrily, for 
him. “They’re a nice crowd of fellows!” 

“What good are they?” asked Ray scorn- 
fully. 6 ‘ They can ’t do anything ! ’ ’ 

“Yes, they can, too!” defended Sissy. “They 
do lots of things that you can’t!” 

“I’d like to see them; that’s all!” 

“How about Perry Brett?” inquired Sissy. 
Perry was one of the best all-around athletes 
at the Norfolk High School. Ray considered. 

“Perry’s all right,” he finally acknowledged. 
“But he’s the only one.” 

“How about Chet Richards, and Chip Wil- 
liams, and Don Niles, and a few of those fel- 
lows ? ’ ’ continued the other, naming three of the 
Patrol Leaders of the troop. 

Just then, they reached the house where Ray 
lived, and the latter cut off the conversation 
by turning in at the gate. 

8 


FLUNKED! 


“See you later,’ ’ was his only response. 

“What are you going to do now?” inquired 
Sissy. 

“I don’t know!” replied Ray shortly, the 
recollection of the flunked examination and all 
that it meant coming back to him. “Maybe I’ll 
go for a swim.” 

“I’ll come along too, if I can,” offered 
Sissy. 

“You won’t come with me!” responded Ray 
crossly. 

“Why not?” asked Sissy, who was used to 
these occasional outbursts of temper on the part 
of his impetuous cousin, and who was not so 
much offended as hurt by them. 

‘ ‘ Because I say so ! ” snapped Ray. 

He went rather noisily up to his own room, 
slammed the door behind him, and sat down to 
think the matter over. His great ambition was 
to become a mining engineer, like his uncle. 
Now he was apparently cut off from it. 

“I wish I hadn’t drunk those old sodas!” he 
declared angrily. 

Ray was by nature a fighter. Also, he wanted 
to do things when he grew up. And engineer- 
ing was what he wanted to do them in. 

9 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“I’m not going to give it up, either !” he told 
himself. “I’ll be an engineer yet!” 

But how? He sat for a long time, thinking 
it over and over. 

Sissy Smith waited around outside for some 
time, in the hope that his cousin would reappear 
and let him join him. Finally, he went down 
alone to the swimming beach on the bank of the 
river. 

Several boys were already in the cool water 
when he arrived, and one of them called out : 

“ Where ’s Ray Clark?” 

“He said he was coming; but he didn’t!” 
Sissy shouted back. ‘ ‘ I guess he ’s mad because 
he flunked that exam, today.” 

“Gee, did he flunk that !” exclaimed the other, 
whose name was Chalmers, vulgarly called 
“Clam,” Jamieson. “Why, I thought it was 
a cinch!” 

“Ray said he was feeling sick,” volunteered 
Sissy. “I thought it was a cinch too!” 

“He’ll feel sicker after we get hold of him!” 
promised another, whose name was Dick Rey- 
nolds. “We’ll guy the life out of him!” 

“I’ll bet that’s why he was afraid to show 
up here today!” added a rather frail-looking 
10 


FLUNKED! 

boy, who was the younger brother of Chet 
Richards. 

“We’ll do it tomorrow, instead!” remarked 
Chet himself, who was well-built and had an 
obstinate jaw. 

“Not if I know it!” declared Harry Rich- 
ards, who being younger was more timid. “I 
don’t want to get Ray Clark after me!” 

“What’s the harm?” inquired Dick Rey- 
nolds, who was a good fighter and rather in- 
clined to be aggressive. 4 4 He can’t do any more 
than kill you. What are you scared of?” 

4 4 Let him kill you then, if you like it so 
much!” retorted Harry, whose disposition to 
talk back sometimes got him into trouble. 4 4 I’ll 
be the referee.” 

“I wish he would lick you,” broke in Chet, 
who did not always carry the spirit of the Scout 
Law into his family affairs. 4 4 It would take 
some of the sass out of you!” 

4 4 If he doesn’t lick you, I will!” offered Dick 
Reynolds, making a sudden spring at him 
through the water. 

4 4 You just leave me alone!” cried Harry, 
who had earned the reputation of being a 
scared-cat. “I’ll tell my father on you!” 

11 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Dick Reynolds, instead of jumping upon 
Harry, only splashed him with water. 

4 4 Don’t he a baby,” he declared. 

It was a hot day in late June, and the water 
of the river — a large one which flowed past 
Norfolk, Riverview, Portland, and a few other 
towns on its journey to the sea — was cooling, if 
not over-clean. Until the sun had sunk low, the 
boys, most of them members of the same scout 
troop, splashed around and did stunts. Then 
a loud whistle blew from somewhere nearby, 
and Chet Richards, who was the Patrol Leader 
of his patrol, started for the shore. 

“That’s the factory whistle,” he announced. 
“It’s getting late.” 

Rather reluctantly the boys dressed them- 
selves and, in due course of time, started for 
home. Sissy Smith, who had an errand to do 
in town, said good-by to the others and set out 
for the grocery store. The errand done, he 
walked homeward, whistling carelessly. Just 
before he had reached his own home, he saw a 
boy, whom he thought he recognized as Ray 
Clark, climb over the high board fence at the 
rear and disappear from sight around the cor- 
ner of a neighboring barn. 

12 


CHAPTER II 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 

P ERRY BRETT, Donald Niles, Chester 
Richards, Kenneth Williams, Nelson 
Weekes, and Russell Goddard, the six 
Patrol leaders of Troop Two, Norfolk, were 
standing in a group outside the Richards’ 
house on Grove Street discussing plans for the 
activities of the Troop during the summer vaca- 
tion, when a small boy in Scout uniform came 
around the nearest street corner on a run, 
pulled up three paces distant, and saluted Chet 
Richards, who was the leader of the Bucktail 
Patrol. 

‘ 4 Well, what’s the matter with you, Scout 
Thomas ? ’ ’ inquired Chet. ‘ ‘ Anything doing ? ’ ’ 
Artie Thomas, the youngest member of the 
Patrol, paused for a moment to partly recover 
his breath. Then he answered: 

‘ ‘ Well, I just guess yes! Ray Clark has run 
away from home and all the Scouts in the city 
13 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


have been ordered to go on a search for him — 
if their parents are willing.’ ’ 

The six older boys crowded around. 

“ What’s that?” asked Perry Brett, the Se- 
nior Patrol Leader. “How? When?” 

“Yesterday afternoon sometime. He left a 
note saying that he was going out to Mexico 
to fight Indians, or something. Nobody’s seen 
him since the geography exam.” 

“I’ll bet he flunked it and ran away because 
he was afraid his father would lick him,” haz- 
arded Chet Richards. 

“Aw, he doesn’t mind a licking!” declared 
Harry Richards, his brother. Harry was two 
years younger than Chet and was not even an 
Assistant Patrol Leader, but he was with the 
group because he did not want to be left out 
of anything in which Chet had a part. 

“He went to Mexico to fight Indians,” re- 
peated Artie. 

“Everbody knows there aren’t any good In- 
dians in the West any more — except in moving 
picture shows,” stated Chip Williams wisely. 
“I’ll bet that wasn’t the real reason.” 

“He told me once that he wanted to be a 
mining engineer when he grew up,” announced 
14 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 


Perry. “ Maybe he just got tired of school and 
thought he could get a job in Mexico/ ’ 

“I heard once that his uncle owns a mine or 
something/’ informed Baby Goddard, who was 
responsible for the behavior of the Bullfrog 
Patrol and whose nickname arose from his 
round face and innocent, trusting eyes. Be- 
yond that the resemblance stopped abruptly. 

“Probably that’s it then,” continued Perry. 
“He’s going out to get a job with his uncle. 
Gee ! Won’t he have a dandy time when he gets 
there!” 

A shrill whistle sounded down the street. 
Harry Richards, always anxious to have a hand 
in things, turned to see who it was. Then he 
sent an answering whistle and waved his arm. 
“It’s Lloyd Smith,” he explained. 

Soon the newcomer was within hailing dis- 
tance of the group. 

“Hello, Sissy!” greeted Chip Williams. 

“Hello yourself, and see how you like it!” 
responded the other, whose full name was Lloyd 
Percival Cicely Smith. “Heard about Ray 
Clark?” 

“Sure we have,” stated Harry. “He’s run 
away from home.” 


15 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“And I saw him go, too!” declared Sissy, 
fully alive to the importance of the announce- 
ment. 

“You did!” cried Perry Brett. “How do 
you know?” 

“Well, he had some sort of a bundle in his 
hand and he wouldn’t stop when I yelled at 
him.” 

“Which way did he go?” questioned Harry 
immediately. 

“Shut up, kid!” commanded Chet. “You 
aren’t a Patrol Leader.” 

Harry, who was rather jealous of his broth- 
er’s natural superiority of two years and who 
tried to make up for it by doing his best to 
have a voice in things whether they concerned 
him or not, looked grieved. 

“What’s the good of being a Patrol Leader 
if you don’t know enough to ask questions?” 
he demanded. 

“Never you mind,” returned Chet, mindful 
of the fifth Scout Law. “Which way did he 
go?” he added. 

“He skinned over the back fence and went 
around the corner of Morriss’s barn. I don’t 
know what became of him after that. ’ ’ 

16 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 


“Why didn’t you follow him?” commented 
the persistent Harry. “You’re a fine Scout, 
you are!” 

“How did I know he was running away?” de- 
fended Sissy. 

Artie Thomas had been waiting, rather im- 
patiently, for a chance to get in a remark. Now 
he spoke up. 

“The Scout Commissioner has sent word to 
all the Scout Masters to have their troops ready 
to set off on the search tomorrow morning,” he 
proclaimed. “They say Ray’s mother is sick 
and we’ve got to get hold of Ray and bring 
him back as soon as we can, or she may get 
sicker. Mr. Stead met me in the street about 
a half an hour ago and told me to hunt you 
fellows up, and for each of you to get his patrol 
together and be around at the Club House this 
evening at the usual time to receive instruc- 
tions.” 

“All right, fellows!” exclaimed the Senior 
Patrol Leader. “Eight o’clock sharp! Every- 
body look after his own patrol!” 

The next moment, the street in front of the 
Richards’ was deserted, except for an ice- 
wagon, and six excited Patrol Leaders were 
17 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


scattering in as many different directions to 
Imnt np the other Scouts of the troop. 

By quarter before eight that evening, thirty- 
one Scouts were assembled in the airy, but nev- 
ertheless hot, parish hall of the church, which 
they used for a club house; and by eight o’clock 
twelve others had arrived. Only five members 
of the entire Troop — all Tenderfeet — were 
missing, and of the forty-three boys forty — 
five complete patrols — had written consents 
from their parents or guardians that they 
might join in the search for the runaway boy 
wherever it might lead them and for any rea- 
sonable length of time. 

A few minutes after eight Mr. Stead, their 
Scout Master — a well-built, dark-complexioned 
man who was also Physical Director of the Nor- 
folk High School — mounted the slightly raised 
platform at the further end of the hall and 
addressed them. 

“I guess most of you understand the situa- 
tion pretty well, ’ ’ he began in a clear, business- 
like voice. “A boy — Raymond Clark, whom 
many of you doubtless know — has run away 
from home. Apparently, he was discouraged 
because he failed to pass the entrance examinar 
18 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 


tions for the high school and foolishly decided 
to go West — to Mexico.’ ’ 

“Did he go there to shoot Indians?” inquired 
Sissy Smith who, although a mild-mannered 
and even rather timid hoy, had a sneaking 
fondness for the blood-thirsty. Mr. Stead 
smiled. 

“No; not quite that. His idea seems to have 
been to try to get employment with some min- 
ing engineering concern; as that was what he 
wished to take up for his life work. He failed 
to realize that he was hurting his own chances 
by not getting as much education and training 
as possible before actually making a start. It 
is the trained man who wins out.” 

“But, Mr. Stead, why wouldn’t a fellow get 
the training in a place like that better than 
here?” asked Harry Richards, ignoring his 
brother’s whispered order to shut up. 

“For several reasons. The chief one is that 
he is too young and has not had sufficient gen- 
eral education. The gravest part of the matter, 
however, is that he has left home without his 
parents’ consent and that his mother has been 
made seriously ill by the shock. It is feared 
that she may become worse unless we can bring 
19 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


the boy back to her, or at least give her some 
definite news concerning him.” 

“ Maybe he’s somewhere in Norfolk still,” 
hazarded Perry Brett. 

“We are inclined to think that the chances 
are rather against it. However, our first duty 
will he to make a systematic and thorough 
search of Norfolk and the suburbs, a section of 
which will be assigned to each Patrol. The po- 
lice, of course, will do their part.” 

Chet Richards rose to his feet and gave the 
Scout salute. 

“Well, Patrol Leader Richards, what is it?” 
asked the Scout Master. 

“It seems to me, sir, that it would be better 
if we were divided into half-patrols, under the 
Patrol Leader and the Assistant. Then the 
fellows could spread out more and whoever 
was in charge of a squad would have only three 
fellows to look after and get reports from, in- 
stead of seven. That ought to make it easier 
all around.” 

“I think the whole Patrol ought to keep 
together,” announced Harry, as his brother 
sat down again. “That would be the best 
way . 9 9 


20 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 


“Shut up, kid!” exclaimed Chet angrily. 
“You’re too fresh!” 

Mr. Stead wisely took no notice of this little 
family difference of opinion. 

“We can probably do as Patrol Leader Rich- 
ards suggests in our preliminary scouting 
around the city,” he observed. “After we be- 
gin to search the country, however, it would 
hardly do for the members of a Patrol to be 
too widely scattered. For one thing, when it 
came to camping out overnight it would hardly 
be safe for less than eight to be together.” 

“Will we camp out in the open all night?” 
queried a voice in some surprise. 

“It looks very much like it. Unless we find 
some trace of the Clark boy in or near the city 
it will be our duty to hunt for him through the 
surrounding country ; and to keep up the search 
until you receive orders to return. That, of 
course, will mean camping out all night and 
also doing your own cooking. You will all go 
fully prepared for such a trip, with blanket 
rolls, ponchos, a certain amount of food, neces- 
sary cooking utensils, and so forth. If you 
were to return to your own home each night, 
it would be impossible for you to make a really 
21 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


careful search beyond a radius of, say, two 
miles or so. You will have to keep a watch 
during the night at your encampments to pro- 
vide against surprise by tramps or other unde- 
sirable characters; and it will probably mean 
that not one of you will see a bed or get a good 
square meal of home cooking for at least two 
weeks. ’ ’ 

“Thunder !” exclaimed Harry Richards who, 
much as he loved having a hand in things, loved 
comfort even more. “I don’t believe I’ll go.” 

“You’ll be a little squealer if you don’t!” re- 
torted Chet, who had overheard him. 

“How far have we got to go to hunt for 
Ray?” questioned Perry Brett. 

“The plan is to explore the country here- 
abouts thoroughly, as it is thought very prob- 
able that the Clark boy will try in some way to 
earn enough money to pay his railroad fare 
out West. He had only a comparatively small 
amount of his own to take away with him. We 
rather expect to find him in one of the villages 
near Norfolk where he is not known, but the 
intervening country will nevertheless be care- 
fully and methodically searched. Doing a thing 
thoroughly — provided it is worth while doing at 
22 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 


all — is one of the fundamental principles of 
success in Scout work or anything else.” 

Sissy Smith stood up and saluted. 

“ Please, sir,” he ventured when he had 
gained the Scout Master’s attention. “I live 
right next door to Ray Clark, and I saw him 
going off yesterday afternoon with a bundle 
under his arm.” 

Several of the boys stared at Sissy with in- 
terest, but Mr. Stead did not appear to be very 
much impressed. 

“I am afraid that information will not do 
us any particular good,” he remarked. ‘ ‘We 
already know that he has left home and even 
if we were sure of the general direction which 
he took it would not give us any really definite 
clue as to where he may be now.” 

“I should think the Scout troops of the other 
villages, like Portland, would have been told 
to be on the lookout for him,” declared Harry, 
ignoring Chet’s glance. 

“They have been,” informed Mr. Stead pa- 
tiently. “We are to have the cooperation of 
the Scout troops, as well as the police, of all 
the neighboring towns. Posters will shortly be 
sent out giving an accurate description of the 
23 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

runaway and all other necessary particulars 
concerning him. The Norfolk troops, however, 
will first search the city and then the surround- 
ing country for a radius of twenty or twenty- 
five miles. Beyond that, the matter must be 
turned over to the police or other Scout troops, 
acting independently. The chances are, how- 
ever, that the missing boy will be found some- 
where within the twenty-five mile zone which 
we are to search; as it is thought very proba- 
ble that he will try to get employment at some 
place comparatively near Norfolk where he is 
not known.” 

“What parts of the city are we to hunt in 
tomorrow V’ inquired Dick Reynolds. Dick 
was the Assistant Patrol Leader of the Buck- 
tail Patrol, of which Chet and Harry Richards, 
Sissy Smith, and Artie Thomas were also mem- 
bers. Chet Richards was the Patrol Leader, 
but Dick was giving him a good fight for the 
position at the annual Troop elections the com- 
ing Fall. For this reason, Harry Richards, who 
besides being jealous of Chet had a natural 
grudge against him as a result of his elder 
brother’s efforts to live up to the third Scout 
law by bringing him up properly, chummed up 
24 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 


with Dick and always seconded him in any dis- 
pute between the Patrol Leader and his As- 
sistant. 

“Hope it will be over by City Hall Park,” 
declared Harry Richards audibly. “Then we 
can have some fun feeding peanuts to the 
squirrels. ’ ’ 

“Shut up!” commanded Chet, in a voice 
which could be overheard by all those sitting 
nearby. “ Well take what we get.” 

“Aw, shut up yourself!” retorted Harry, 
still more loudly. “You think you’re the whole 
show ! 9 9 

“The sections which have been allotted to 
our troop are all in this part of the town,” 
announced Mr. Stead, breaking in upon this 
brotherly exchange of compliments. “I will 
adopt Patrol Leader Richards’ suggestion that 
it be sub-divided and a half -patrol assigned to 
each section. I will instruct the Patrol Leaders 
and the Assistant Patrol Leaders with respect 
to this at the close of the meeting. You will 
start on the search immediately after breakfast 
tomorrow morning and will continue it until 
about six o’clock in the evening, returning to 
your homes for dinner. Your lunches you will 
25 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


take with you or get at the time. Do you all 
understand what I have just been telling you?” 

“Yes, sir!” came the reply from different 
parts of the hall. 

“Then the meeting will adjourn. Patrol 
Leaders and Assistant Patrol Leaders will re- 
main behind for further instructions. ’ ’ 

“Gee, this is going to be great sport!” de- 
clared Lyle Roberts, a member of the Mon- 
goose Patrol, as the Scouts swarmed out of 
the building with a buzz of excited conversa- 
tion. 

Harry Richards, still somewhat grouchy at 
his brother’s remarks during the course of the 
day, went directly home and tied a few of 
Chet’s favorite neckties in hard knots to vent 
his feelings, and then went to bed. 

It was after ten o’clock when Chet entered 
the room which he and Harry shared together, 
touched a match to the gas, and began undress- 
ing. Harry was already fast asleep, but when 
the light was turned on he opened his eyes and 
gave a growl. 

“Can’t you come in without waking a fellow 
up?” he demanded crossly. 

“Oh dry up!” retorted Chet. “You’ll get all 
26 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 


the sleep you need before starting off on the 
hike tomorrow.” 

“I’m not going on any old hike!” was the 
response. Chet dropped his collar and necktie 
in astonishment. 

“You mean you aren’t going with the rest 
of us on the hunt for Ray Clark!” 

“That’s what I mean.” 

“Why not?” demanded Chet sharply. 

“Because I don’t want to, that’s why.” 

“Why don’t you want to?” 

“I don’t, that’s all. It’s none of your busi- 
ness anyway.” 

“You’ve got to go,” stated Chet. “All the 
Scouts who are able to go have been ordered on 
the search, and that’s all there is to it.” 

“I’m not going just the same! I’ve got a 
pain in my side and mother wouldn’t want me 
to if she knew about it.” 

“Pain in your side nothing!” exclaimed 
Chet. “You’re just too lazy to go — or else 
you’re afraid.” 

“I am not afraid!” returned Harry angrily. 
“WTiat would I be afraid of?” 

“Afraid of your shadow in the dark, I 
guess,” answered Chet. “You’ve been a regu- 
27 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


lar little scared-cat cry-baby ever since you 
were in that old railroad wreck/ ’ 

Harry sat up in bed with an involuntary 
shiver. 

“I guess you would too, if you’d been in my 
place/ ’ he exclaimed, his voice choking a little. 
“I was pinned under a seat or something and 
I could see the flames coming closer and closer 
to me after the car got on fire. That man pulled 
me out just in time. The doctor said it was a 
shock to my nervous system. I heard him tell 
mother/ ’ 

“Oh rats with your nervous system !” de- 
clared Chet, who like all healthy boys was not 
aware that he possessed one. 4 ‘ That was nearly 
a year ago anyway ; and besides nothing really 
happened to you.” 

“No, but it might have. Anyway, I’m not 
going oft on this old hike — and that’s all there 
is to it.” 

“You’ve got to go !” repeated Chet. “You’ll 
be breaking your Scout Oath if you back out.” 

“I don’t care!” responded Harry reck- 
lessly. 

“Then you’ll get fired out of the Troop,” 
said Chet soberly. “You know our rules.” 

28 


BOY SCOUTS ON THE TRAIL 


“I’ve got a pain in my side, I tell you!” 

“Pain in your side nothing! I’ll tell on you 
if you try to sneak out of it that way. Don’t 
be such a blamed little baby!” 

“I don’t care!” returned Harry. “If your 
nervous system ” 

“Beans with your nervous system! You 
make me tired!” 

“I’m not going, and that’s all there is to it. 
You can’t bully me into it, either!” 

“I’d hate to be as big a baby as you are!” 
stated Chet. “You haven’t any business being 
a Boy Scout at all if you act that way. You 
either go along on this hike or you’ll get fired 
out of the Troop!” 

Harry thought this over a moment. 

“All right,” he said at length. “I’ll go. 
But if anything happens to me it will be your 
fault.” 


CHAPTER III 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 

I P they don’t come in another five minutes 
the rest of you fellows can go along with- 
out them.” 

Perry Brett, the Senior Patrol Leader, who 
had charge of starting the different patrols on 
their preliminary hunt through Norfolk, at 
length made this promise to Dick Reynolds. 
Six members of the Bucktail Patrol — Sissy 
Smith, George Ferguson, Chalmers or Clam 
Jamieson, Artie Thomas, Ken Davis, and Dick 
Reynolds himself — had been at the Club House 
for some time, impatiently awaiting the ar- 
rival of the Patrol Leader, Chet Richards, and 
his brother. All the other patrols, with the 
natural exception of Perry Brett’s, had al- 
ready started off; and Dick Reynolds had 
several times given voice to his dissatisfac- 
tion. 

“If they don’t come soon, we’ll go off with- 
30 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 

out them,” he had threatened. “ That’s a fine 
way for a Patrol Leader to act!” 

4 6 Maybe he overslept,” ventured George Fer- 
guson, who was Chet’s particular chum. “Or 
maybe he had to do something for his mother 
first.” 

“Yes, and maybe he’s just lazy or still eat- 
ing breakfast!” retorted Dick sarcastically. 
“He’s a nice Patrol Leader.” 

‘ 1 Here they come now ! ’ ’ sang out Artie 
Thomas. Chet and Harry ran up panting. 

“What was the matter?” asked Perry. 

‘ ‘ Clock was twenty minutes slow ! ’ ’ responded 
Chet with a glance at his younger brother. “We 
had to come along without any breakfast.” 

“You needn’t look at me that way!” ex- 
claimed Harry. “I didn’t set the old clock 
back!” 

“Nobody said you did ! ” retorted Chet rather 
shortly. 

“All right, Bucktail Patrol!” declared Perry. 
“You have the eight blocks of the business sec- 
tion bounded by Warburton Avenue, Broadway, 
Central Avenue, and Cedar Street — on both 
sides of Main. Get started!” 

Under Chet’s command, the patrol set off 
31 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


along Warburton Avenue at Scouts’ Pace. 
After a few blocks, they came to the lower end 
of City Hall Park. Here the patrol was di- 
vided into two squads. 

“You take the four blocks on the other side 
of Main Street,” Chet instructed the Assistant 
Patrol Leader, Hick Reynolds. “Do them up 
thoroughly and take in any moving picture 
places on Main Street after the show starts this 
afternoon. Report at the Club House at eight 
this evening, and make dead sure that Ray isn’t 
in your district before you come back.” 

“Let’s you and I go off together,” proposed 
Harry Richards to Dick as soon as the other 
half of the patrol had gone about its business. 

“Very well,” assented Dick, rather unwill- 
ingly. While Harry was well-built for his age 
and was very companionable when he wished 
to be, Dick somehow felt that he did not “size 
up ’ ’ properly. Dick himself was a very active, 
energetic boy who was naturally fond of ac- 
tion. This made him rather impatient that the 
Patrol Leadership should be in the hands of 
anyone who was more thoughtful and slow-go- 
ing, as Chet Reynolds was, and he was conse- 
quently engaged in trying to show that he was 
32 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 


really the better fitted for the place. There was 
no personal jealousy, however, and he disliked 
the idea that Harry might have set the clock 
hack so as to make Chet late for the meeting. 
Dick hated meanness. Nevertheless, he turned 
to Harry. 

“All right,’ ’ he answered. “We’ll go off to- 
gether this afternoon. This morning, each of 
us will have to take a block and make a regu- 
lar house-to-house canvass. We’ll meet for 
lunch at Wiley’s Ice Cream Parlor on Main 
Street and report. Then, if we haven’t found 
anything, we’ll go off in couples and visit the 
moving picture shows — I think there are three 
of them — and after that we can go home. Be 
sure to show up at the Club House this evening, 
though. ’ ’ 

The morning’s search was entirely unevent- 
ful and four hot and rather tired boys gathered 
in the back parlor of Wiley’s where, as Clam 
Jamieson expressed it, they “lapped up” a 
plate of ice cream and two glasses of lukewarm 
water apiece. Then they sat around the table, 
talking over various things, and waiting until 
it was time for the moving picture shows to 


commence. 


33 


THE NORFOLK ROY SCOUTS 


“Not that there’s any chance of finding Ray 
at any of them, ’ ’ commented Dick. ‘ i But them ’s 
the orders.” 

“Those are the orders, yon mean,” corrected 
Sissy Smith, who was a stickler for grammat- 
ical accuracy. “Why don’t you learn to talk 
good?” 

“I don’t talk good; I talk well!” retorted 
Dick, turning the laugh on Sissy. “Anyhow, 
it’s too hot!” 

“I’ll bet it will be hotter in the shows,” re- 
marked Clam encouragingly. ‘ ‘ My father says 
it’s a wonder some of those places don’t burn 
up from ‘ spontaneous combustion.’ ” 

“What’s that?” inquired Harry. 

“That means that it’s time to start!” de- 
clared Dick, after a glance at the clock on the 
wall. “Sissy, you and Clam go to the ‘ Em- 
pire,’ halfway down the block. Harry and I 
will tackle the ‘Pleasuredrome.’ After that, we 
can take them as they come. I think there’s 
only one other, but there may be two. Wait, 
until the lights are turned up, and then make 
a thorough search. There’s no chance of find- 
ing Ray Clark, of course, but then those — are 
— the — orders. ’ ’ 


34 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 


Main Street was the principal business thor- 
oughfare of Norfolk, and at that particular sec- 
tion it was crowded with small stores and ice 
cream parlors with an occasional moving pic- 
ture place sandwiched in. The 4 ‘ Pleasure- 
drome’ ’ was about three blocks distant, at the 
further end of their section, and Dick went up 
to the box office, explained that they were Boy 
Scouts making a search for somebody, and 
asked if they could go in to look around. 

“Sure you can go in!” was the hearty re- 
joinder. “All you’ve got to do is to buy your 
ticket — five cents, one nickel, half a dime, three 
for fifteen cents, five for ” 

“But we only want to look around,” ex- 
plained Dick again. “We don’t care anything 
about the pictures.” 

“You can’t work that game on me !” returned 
the man. “If you once get inside you’ll stay 
through the whole show before coming out 
again. I know you boys! Five pennies, one 
nickel ” 

Harry tossed a dime on the shelf. 

“Will you give it back to us if we come out 
before the old show is over?” he asked. 

The man tore otf two tickets from a long roll, 
35 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


pushed them out through the window, and re- 
commenced reading the newspaper, without 
making any remark. 

“Come ahead !” said the impatient Dick. 
“You ’ll never see that ten cents again!” 

As they crossed over to the entrance to the 
hall, their eyes fell on a large, strikingly-col- 
ored poster of one of the “movies” to he given 
that afternoon. It was entitled “The Run- 
away’s Home-coming” and showed a forlorn 
and ragged-looking boy clasped in the arms of 
a weeping, but grateful, woman in bright red 
skirt and pink waist, while just back of the pair 
stood a melodramatic father in a blue flannel 
shirt and suspenders, and with his hands 
clasped and raised heavenward. 

“Gee, that’s just in our line!” exclaimed 
Harry. “Except that the fellow doesn’t look 
much like Ray, and Mr. Clark only wears that 
kind of a shirt when he ’s off on a fishing trip. ’ ’ 

The performance had already commenced 
when the two Scouts stepped through the door 
leading to the auditorium, and the room was 
pitchy black — except, of course, for the square 
patch of light on the screen where the pictures 
were being shown. 


36 


‘‘THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 


“We’ll have to wait until they turn up the 
lights again at the end of the performance,” 
whispered Dick. “Then we’ll have a look 
around to see if Ray’s here; and get on to the 
next place as quick as we can.” 

“The Runaway’s Home-coming” was the 
play in progress. The pictures showed a well- 
dressed youth, who bore a very faint resem- 
blance to the returned prodigal on the posters, 
hiding in the thick branches of a tree while an 
excited old woman — probably his maiden aunt 
— two excited men, a mob of excited small boys, 
an imperturbable policeman, and several other 
characters, rushed madly past in search of him. 
When the pursuit had passed, the runaway 
dropped lightly down from the tree, tearing his 
coat slightly on a branch as he did so, and van- 
ished over a back fence. Several other pictures 
were now shown, giving an account of the boy’s 
experiences for the next three or four days — 
his condition gradually becoming more ragged 
and forlorn — and then the words “He is starv- 
ing” were flashed on the screen. 

In the next picture, the boy, apparently weak 
from hunger, was found sitting on a curb stone 
in a rather shabby-looking neighborhood with 
37 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


his head buried in his arms. Then he raised it, 
looked despairingly around, and tightened his 
belt several notches — the approved way of in- 
dicating extreme hunger. Just then a baker’s 
wagon loaded with bread appeared coming 
along the street and stopped a short distance 
off, the driver disappearing into the basement 
door of a house and leaving the wagon unpro- 
tected. 

“I’ll bet he’s going to go up and ask for 
some bread now,” observed Dick. 

Whatever was to be the boy’s next action, 
the spectators were doomed to suspense for 
the following picture showed the interior of the 
boy’s home, with his mother sick in bed and his 
little sisters doing the house-work and trying 
their best to comfort her. The father was 
kneeling with bowed head by his wife’s side. 
“I’ll never strike him again” was the sentence 
flashed on the screen. 

“I suppose he ran away from home because 
his father licked him,” remarked Harry. “We 
missed the first part.” 

The scene with the baker’s wagon was now 
resumed. At first sight, there was no change, 
but suddenly an automobile, apparently in the 
38 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 


hands of an inexperienced chauffeur, came 
whizzing along, struck the wagon a glancing 
blow, which upset it, and passed on. Fright- 
ened by the accident the horse started to run 
away, the driver reappearing just in time to 
see horse and wagon go tearing along the 
street, with the loaves of bread and other arti- 
cles flying from it at every jounce. Aroused by 
the noise, the runaway rose unsteadily to his 
feet, grasping a nearby lamp post for support. 

“I’ll bet he’s going to get run over or some- 
thing,” prophesied Dick, who noticed that the 
horse was rushing madly toward the lamp post. 

A woman, carrying a young child in her arms, 
suddenly appeared upon the scene, directly in 
the path of the terrified animal. 

“What’s the matter with her?” demanded 
Harry. “Is she blind or deaf, or what?” 

Apparently recognizing her danger for the 
first time, the woman made a desperate attempt 
to get out of the way. She was so paralyzed 
with fright, however, that she sank down on the 
sidewalk in a faint, directly in front of the lamp 
post. 

The picture was cut off abruptly, and the 
next scene was at the boy’s home once more. 
39 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


This time the mother was lying very still, the 
father was beside himself with despair, and an 
anxious doctor had been added to the group. 

“Gee, if Ray Clark is watching this, I bet 
he’ll go home of himself right away,” declared 
Harry. 

The street scene was resumed, showing the 
unconscious woman on the sidewalk, the weak- 
ened boy clinging to the lamp post, and the run- 
away horse almost upon them both. 

“Guess it’s all up with him now,” remarked 
Hick. “How’s he going to have a 4 home-com- 
ing’ if he’s run over, though?” 

With the horse almost ready to trample upon 
the woman, the boy at the lamp post sank 
quickly to his knees and by a great effort, and 
seemingly at the absolute risk of his own life, 
managed to push the woman and the child out 
of harm’s way. At the same instant, the horse 
obligingly swerved slightly, just grazed the 
lamp post, and went galloping out of the bounds 
of the picture, with the driver running after 
him, shouting and waving his hands. 

“Now the fellow will get his piece of bread,” 
announced Harry. 

Instead, a policeman came wandering up the 
40 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 


street, suspected that something was wrong, 
and marched over to the group. By this time, 
the woman had recovered from her fainting 
spell but the boy was unconscious from fright 
and exhaustion. The final scene was the re- 
union of the runaway boy and his parents, in 
which the promises of the poster were fulfilled. 
Dick drew a long breath. 

“If any fellow would run away from home 
after seeing a thing like that, he must be all 
kinds of an idiot !” he observed. 

With the conclusion of the sketch, the audi- 
torium lights were turned on and the two 
searchers went down the aisles, closely exam- 
ining every person in the audience. There was 
no sign of Ray Clark. 

Before they had time to return to the rear 
of the room, the place was again darkened and 
another moving picture sketch was commenced. 
Suddenly, with absolutely no warning, there was 
a loud explosion and the auditorium was lit by 
a ruddy glare. After a brief instant of hushed 
bewilderment, there rose a confused outcry of 
shouts and screams from the persons in the au- 
dience. 

‘ ‘ Fire ! ’ ’ somebody yelled foolishly. 

41 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

There was an immediate rush for the exits, 
and the narrow aisles between the seats were 
soon filled with pushing, struggling, fighting 
people — men, women, and children. To make 
matters worse, smoke began drifting from the 
upper balcony where the moving picture ma- 
chine was placed; and the already frightened 
crowd became panic-stricken. Women were 
fainting, and many were being thrown down and 
trampled on in the mad rush for safety. A 
babel of screams, cries, and shrieks drowned 
every other sound. A few policemen, who were 
stationed in the rear of the hall, tried to stop 
the panic. 

“There’s no danger!” they shouted in sten- 
torian tones, which, nevertheless, could not be 
heard for more than fifteen or twenty feet. “Go 
back and sit down ! ’ 9 

With drawn clubs, they prevented those in 
front from forcing their way in a mass through 
the exit doors. Awed by the sticks, which the 
policemen used with good effect, the vanguard 
of the crowd — those who had been in the rear 
of the hall — tried to hold back ; but the frenzied 
people behind continued to struggle and push 
their way forward. The jam became terrific. 
42 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 


Men were swept off their feet by the press of 
those around them and were crushed almost 
breathless, at great danger of having an arm 
or a leg broken. Women and children were 
even more helpless. 

After the first moment of stunned surprise, 
Dick looked up quickly to see what had hap- 
pened. From the balcony where the moving 
picture machine was placed, came a dense cloud 
of smoke, shot with fiery streaks. The machine 
itself, which had been the cause of the explo- 
sion, was wrecked and pieces of it — bits of smok- 
ing wood — were strewn over the auditorium be- 
low. The operator of the machine could be 
seen frantically trying to extinguish the blaze, 
which had not yet really gained a foothold, and 
he was being assisted in this by several men 
who had been seated in the gallery. A woman 
who was also up there had become so terrorized 
that she was screaming hysterically. 

As soon as he realized what had happened, 
Harry had risen from his seat and rushed with 
the struggling mob that was trying to escape. 
As the boys had been in the very front part of 
the hall when the accident had occurred, Harry 
was one of the rearguard of the crowd, and he 
43 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


had absolutely no chance of forcing his way 
through the mass of older people between him 
and the nearest exit. Nevertheless, he threw 
himself, screaming, into their midst and was 
soon engulfed in the surging throng. 

Dick, on the contrary, as soon as he had col- 
lected his wits, sprang upon the low stage plat- 
form in front of the screen on which the pic- 
tures had just been shown. 

‘ 4 Fire out ! Fire out ! Fire out ! ’ 9 he screamed 
at the top of his lungs. 

Both on account of its shrill quality and its 
power, a boy’s voice can make itself heard above 
almost anything from a football cheering sec- 
tion to a boiler factory. Some of the people 
heard the cry and half turned their heads to see 
where it came from. There on the stage plat- 
form — the furthest of any from the exits — was 
a cool, collected figure in khaki uniform. Re- 
assured by the sight, one or two of them took 
up the cry, “Fire out! Fire out!” The slo- 
gan spread, somewhat uncertainly, through the 
crowd, and then from the stage came the fur- 
ther shout: “Come back and sit down! Get 
your money’s worth!” 

This made the persons who overheard it 
44 





il 


Tire out ! 


Fire out! Fire out!’ he screamed at the top 
of his lungs.” 


t 

















• 





. 








■ . 




‘ THE RUNAWAY S HOME-COMING” 

laugh; and when anybody is made to laugh he 
forgets his fright. 

“Everybody this way!” continued the cry 
from the stage. ‘ 4 Get your money ’s worth ! ’ ’ 

Up in the balcony itself, the desperately la- 
boring men had succeeded in smothering the 
blaze from the exploded machine, before it had 
a chance to spread. 

“Fire out!” they called in turn. “Sit down, 
everybody ! ’ * 

The police had succeeded in keeping the van- 
guard of the crowd from forcing its way sol- 
idly through the cramped exits. But now the 
pressure from behind was lessened as hesitat- 
ingly, here and there, people took their seats 
again. The panic was over. 

The box office man — a large, ruddy-cheeked, 
rather pompous-looking individual — mounted 
the stage platform beside Dick and held up a 
fat hand for attention. 

“There is no danger! The fire is out!” he 
bellowed, making himself purple in the face 
with his vehemence. “A slight accident has 
happened, and the remainder of the perform- 
ance cannot be given today. The audience will 
please pass out quietly, without pushing or 
45 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


jostling. Those wishing to, may secure cou- 
pons at the box office entitling them to one ad- 
mission when the performance is resumed in a 
day or so. Kindly pass out quietly, and do not 
get excited.’ ’ 

Then he fumbled in his pocket and produced 
something small which he slipped into Dick’s 
unprepared palm. 

‘ ‘ Take that and get out, kid ! ” he commanded. 

“Scouts don’t take money for ” com- 

menced Dick. But the man was gone. Dick 
looked at the object still in his hand again. 
This time a slight smile spread over his face 
and he jumped down from the platform. Al- 
most the first person to meet his eye was Harry, 
who after the first fright had returned to his 
seat like the rest. Dick glanced at him con- 
temptuously. 

“You blame little baby !” was all he said. 

At eight o ’clock that evening, the entire troop 
assembled once more at the Club House. Mr. 
Stead was on hand promptly, and received re- 
ports from each half -patrol in turn. None of 
them had found anything definite, and all had 
searched their districts thoroughly. 

46 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING’’ 


“That is about what I had expected,’ ’ com- 
mented the Scout Master. “Now our duty will 
be to make an organized search through the sur- 
rounding country. The Scout troops of neigh- 
boring villages, to whom word has been sent, 
will give you whatever help they can; but, in 
the main, each patrol must rely upon its own 
resources. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Which patrol are you going with ? ’ ’ inquired 
a voice at the rear of the room. 

“He’s going with all of them, of course!” 
another voice answered. Mr. Stead smiled 
slightly. 

“No,” he answered. “I am not going with 
all of them. In fact I am not going at all. ’ ’ 

“Gee!” commented somebody. “We can’t 
go all alone.” 

“Sure we can!” responded several who had 
overheard him. “I guess we can take care of 
ourselves. We aren’t babies!” 

Mr. Stead nodded in satisfaction. 

“I am glad you feel that way about it,” he 
said. “The Scout Masters of the various 
troops have talked the matter over, and as none 
of us can very well afford to give the time from 
our various occupations, and as we could not 
47 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


go with more than one patrol apiece, even if 
we did, it has been decided to throw yon Scouts 
entirely upon yonr own resources. If you are 
energetic, cool-headed, and self-reliant, as all 
Scouts should be, there is no reason why you 
cannot conduct the search exactly as well as if 
the Scout Masters were with you. Of course 
if any boy feels that he would rather not go on 
the search under those conditions, he is at per- 
fect liberty to withdraw.’ ’ 

“I’ll punch his head off for him, if he does !” 
declared Dick Reynolds, in a loud whisper. 

There was a little subdued discussion, and 
then one of the Scouts rose to his feet. 

“Would it be breaking the Scout Law not to 
go?” he asked. 

“No,” returned Mr. Stead promptly. “You 
are perfectly free to do as you please in a case 
of this sort.” 

“Supposing tramps or somebody should go 
for us!” asked one of the younger boys. 

“Aw, what do we care for tramps?” ex- 
claimed several others. 

“I do not think there is any danger of tramps 
attacking you,” answered the Scout Master. 
“In the first place, there will be seven or eight 
48 


“THE RUNAWAY S HOME-COMING” 


of you together, and in the second place there 
would be no object in their doing so. You had 
better keep a watch when you are in camp dur- 
ing the night, however, to guard against sur- 
prises. The real responsibility, however, rests 
upon the Leaders who are in charge of the pa- 
trols. I would like to know what they think of 
it. Can you keep order in your patrol ?” he 
asked, turning to Perry Brett. 

A sort of smile came over Perry ’s face. 

“I guess so,” he answered. 

“You bet he can!” was the feeling comment 
from one of the Scouts. 

“How about you?” asked the Scout Master, 
turning to Chet Richards. 

“I’ll try,” responded Chet. 

“Sure we will,” added Dick Reynolds, the 
Assistant Patrol Leader. 

Mr. Stead called upon each of the Patrol 
Leaders in turn. All replied in the affirmative. 

“There is a big responsibility upon you 
boys, ’ ’ continued the older man. 6 6 This is not 
play. It is a man’s work you are undertaking, 
and I expect you all to live up to it. In fact, 
I know you will.” 

“Yes, sir, we will!” came several voices. 

49 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“You must remember,’ ’ continued the Scout 
Master, “that it is not simply a question of tak- 
ing care of yourselves, and getting back home 
safely and in good condition. You are engaged 
upon a serious business, and it must be seri- 
ously and properly done.” 

“What time do we start?” queried Perry 
Brett, the Senior Patrol Leader. 

“Where are we to go?” asked somebody 
else. 

“Such of you as are willing to go on the 
search and have your parents’ written consent 
to do so are to assemble here at eight-thirty to- 
morrow morning, fully prepared for the trip 
with blanket rolls, cooking utensils, food, and 
so forth. After the meeting, I will give the dif- 
ferent Patrol Leaders complete instructions as 
to the section of the country to be explored by 
their patrols. I would advise all of you to get 
a good night’s sleep before starting off on the 
search. You will probably need it before you 
get through.” 

As Harry Richards passed out of the Club 
House with the other Scouts, he was somewhat 
surprised to have Dick Reynolds come up to 
him. Harry started to explain his apparent 
50 


“THE RUNAWAY’S HOME-COMING” 


cowardice at the moving picture place, but Dick 
paid no attention to him. 

“ Here’s something that belongs to you,” he 
said shortly, passing over a small object. 
Harry looked at it and saw that it was a dime. 

“The man gave it back to me after all,” ex- 
plained Dick, as he turned away. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE START 


HET RICHARDS woke rather later 



than usual the next morning, but Harry 


was still curled up on his side, snoring 
peacefully. 

‘ 4 Poor kid!” thought Chet. “He’s tired. I 
hate to disturb him.” 

He got up quietly, went softly over to the 
washstand, got a glassful of water, and tiptoed 
gently back. Reaching over, he tilted the glass 
until a small stream of water commenced drib- 
bling from it down the back of his younger 
brother’s neck. Harry stirred uneasily, and 
finally opened his eyes and stretched sleepily. 
Chet dashed the remainder of the glass full in 
the other’s face. Instead of bounding out of 
bed to avenge the insult, Harry only murmured, 
“Cut it!” 

“Don’t you feel well?” asked Chet, who was 
expecting active hostilities. Harry looked at 
him a moment uncertainly. 


52 


THE START 


“I was dreaming about the fire in the theater 
yesterday,” be said finally. “I wish I wasn’t 
afraid of things like that. None of the other 
fellows are.” 

Chet surveyed him in some surprise. Harry 
very seldom talked to him at all seriously. 

“I suppose you can’t help it,” he re- 
turned. 

“Dick Reynolds called me a little baby yes- 
terday,” pursued Harry. 

“I’ll punch his head for him if he does it 
again!” promised Chet, who reserved to him- 
self the privilege of abusing his brother. 

“No you won’t,” declared Harry. “I guess 
he’s about right.” 

“Well, the only way to get over it is to get 
over it,” remarked Chet. “If you want to, that 
is.” Harry thought for a moment. 

“Yes, I guess I want to,” he stated, some- 
what uncertainly. “Only I can’t help feeling 
the way I do. My nervous system ” 

“Oh, forget your old nervous system!” ex- 
claimed Chet. “Just go ahead and do things, 
whether you’re afraid to or not. You’ll 
never make anything out of yourself if you 
don’t.” 


53 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

Again Harry hesitated. 

“All right,” he said finally. “I’ll try it.” 

Instead of reporting at the Club House, five 
blocks distant, the Bucktail Patrol had been 
told to assemble in front of the Richards ’ house. 
By quarter past eight most of them were there : 
Sissy Smith, so called on account of his girlish 
appearance, high voice, and fear of snakes; 
Dick Reynolds, who was somewhat stockily built 
but very strong and active and a fighter by na- 
ture; Ken Davis, a slighter but very athletic 
boy, whose principal feature was a pug nose; 
George Ferguson, a slight, fair-haired boy who 
entered into sports and athletics heartily, if not 
always very successfully; and Chalmers, or 
Clam, Jamieson, who got his nickname chiefly 
on account of his non-talkativeness and his bash- 
fulness before strangers. 

Just before eight-thirty, Artie Thomas, the 
“kid” of the patrol, came up on the run. He 
had only passed his tenderfoot examination a 
week or so before, but he was obliging and anx- 
ious to learn. 

All the boys were dressed in the full Scout 
uniform, and had blanket rolls and canteens 
for water. Dick Reynolds wore a hatchet in 
54 


THE START 


his belt, and Ken Davis, the official signaler, 
carried a signal flag. Sissy Smith, whose fa- 
ther was a doctor, was entrusted with the First 
Aid kit of the patrol. George Ferguson had 
rather a bulky package which he explained con- 
tained three pounds of dog-biscuit, which was 
supposed to be very nourishing, whether de- 
voured by dogs or men. Chalmers Jamieson 
was the proud possessor of a frying pan and a 
small kettle, inside of which was stored a large 
can of the best cocoa. Artie Thomas had 
brought nothing, beside his regular Scout 
equipment, and was much grieved at the over- 
sight. 

Chet and Harry, having gulped down a hasty 
but substantial breakfast, joined the group. 

“ Let’s get started !” called out Dick Rey- 
nolds, as they appeared. “We’ve been wait- 
ing too long already.” 

“You don’t even know where we’re going 
yet,” reminded Chet. 

“Well, then, tell us so we can get busy!” ex- 
claimed Dick. Chet unfolded a piece of paper 
and spread it out on the sidewalk, while the 
others crowded around. 

“You see they’ve taken the country around 

55 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


here for a radius of about twenty-five miles and 
divided it into sections like a piece of pie, with 
Norfolk at the center/’ he explained. 4 ‘ Each 
patrol gets a different section. Ours is right 
here.” 

4 4 Why, that’s way over on the other side of 
the town!” protested somebody. 

“We’ve got it, just the same. We start right 
here where Fingerboard Road and Sand Lane 
come together. Fingerboard Road runs right 
along to the next State, you know, and we have 
everything on the right-hand side, between it 
and this pencil line here on the map.” 

“Who’s got the section on the left-hand side 
of Fingerboard?” inquired George Ferguson, 
whose chief fault was curiosity. 

“One of the patrols of Troop Five — the 
Jackal Patrol, I think. We’re supposed to keep 
in touch with them by wig-wag, if we can, and 
compare notes. Then each patrol is to tele- 
graph to the Scout Commissioner at home, the 
end of each day, and tell where they are and 
make their report. We’re bound to be within 
a mile or so of some telegraph station or other, 
and one of us will have to hunt it up, send the 
message, and then go there again early the 
56 


THE START 

next morning to see if there is any answer for 
us.” 

“Who pays for all that?” asked Ken Davis, 
whose father had a local reputation for being 
“close.” It was reported that he had once 
bought a dog-collar for a puppy ; and had got- 
ten it several sizes too large so that the puppy 
could grow up into it. Only the first after- 
noon the puppy had lost the collar. 

“They’ve arranged with the telegraph com- 
pany so that we can send our messages col- 
lect. Well, let’s get going, now that you all 
know what we’re supposed to do.” 

The junction of Fingerboard Road and Sand 
Lane, which had been fixed upon as their start- 
ing point, was on the outskirts of one of the 
suburbs of the city. The suburb had its own 
troop — Troop Five — but it contained only two 
patrols ; and consequently the Scout Commis- 
sioner had been obliged to call upon Troop Two 
to help them out. 

Several boys in Scout uniform were already 
at the starting point when the Bucktails came 
in sight of it. 

“Scout Ferguson, go and see if they are the 
Troop Five patrol,” directed Chet. 

57 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


George Ferguson left the others, quickened 
his pace, came up to the strangers, picked out 
the Patrol Leader by his badge, walked up to 
him, and gave the Scout salute. 

“Are you the fellows we work with!” asked 
the latter — a very well-built, dark-haired boy 
with black eyes, whom George recognized as 
having played on the baseball team of Norfolk 
High School that Spring. George himself was 
still in grammar school. 

“Yes; I guess so. We’re the Bucktail Pa- 
trol of Troop Two. Are you the Jackal Patrol 
of Troop FiveP’ 

“That’s us. My name’s Elliott.” 

“Mine’s Ferguson. I suppose you fellows 
know this part of the country backwards and 
upside down.” 

“That’s more than any of us do,” said Chet 
Richards, who had come up. “I wish you’d 
give us a few tips. We might get lost around 
here. ’ ’ 

“You couldn’t get lost if you tried,” re- 
turned Elliott. “But about five miles from 
here you’ll come across a small village with a 
lot of cheap cottages and third-rate stores and 
a couple of saloons, and that sort of thing. 

58 


THE START 

You might get mobbed by some of the muck- 
ers.” 

“That will be nice,” declared Dick Rey- 
nolds. “What’s the name of the place?” 

“Rosebank; and you’ll find pretty nearly 
everything there except roses. You’d better 
hunt in couples when you get there.” 

“Thanks for telling us,” remarked Chet. 
“We’re supposed to keep in touch with you 
fellows by signaling, as much as we can, aren’t 
we? What code do you use?” 

“Myers.” 

“Gee, that’s bad. We only know the Con- 
tinental Morse and Semaphore. What will we 
do about it?” 

The Assistant Patrol Leader of the Jackals, 
Alan McLean, spoke up. 

“I know the Morse Code a little. I’ve been 
trying to teach it to my kid brother at home. 
If you fellows send slowly I guess I can get it.” 

“You needn’t worry about that part of it,” 
answered Chet. “We don’t know how to send 
it any other way.” 

“And don’t use any more abbreviations than 
you have to,” continued the other. “I get all 
mixed up on them. ’ ’ 


59 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“We wouldn’t even know an abbreviation if 
we saw it. Does it bite?” 

Patrol Leader Elliott broke in. 

“Say, let’s get started,” be proposed. 

“That’s what I say,” seconded Dick Rey- 
nolds. 

“All right,” agreed Chet. “Hope we’ll see 
you fellows again, some time.” 

“Oh, we’ll get in touch with you by wig- 
wag when we stop for lunch,” promised El- 
liott. “Come ahead, fellows!” 

The Jackal Patrol, in open formation, 
plunged into the woods on the further side of 
Sand Lane and continued to spread out, like a 
fan, until the different Scouts were about twen- 
ty-five or thirty feet apart. 

‘ ‘ That ’s the idea ! ’ ’ commented Chet. “ We ’ll 
do it too — and the further we go the more we ’ll 
spread. ’ ’ 

“What are we supposed to do?” asked Dick. 
“Are we to go to every farm house and so 
on, or just look around in the woods and 
fields ? ’ ’ 

“Both!” responded Chet cheerfully. “Mr. 
Stead told me we were to cover every square 
foot in our ‘sector,’ visit and search all the 
60 


THE START 


farm houses, barns, or other buildings, ques- 
tion the people we meet, pass the word along 
to everybody we can; and everything of that 
sort.” 

‘ ‘ Gee, it will take us all night to search about 
one square mile at that rate,” complained Artie 
Thomas. “Why didn’t they ask us to go over 
it with a fine-tooth comb ? ’ ’ 

“Oh, it won’t take so long if we do it right,” 
spoke up Dick Reynolds. c 1 What we want to do 
is to spread out a lot and each fellow take care 
of some one particular section — say about quar- 
ter of a mile square — at a time. We can talk 
to each other, if we need to, by hand signals, 
or by using our handkerchiefs for flags and wig- 
wagging. Then when any fellow has searched 
his part thoroughly and not found anything I’ll 
signal him where to hunt next.” 

Chet Richards looked at him a moment. 

“Say, are you running this patrol or am I?” 
he inquired. 

“You’re supposed to be, I guess,” returned 
Dick. “Just now, at any rate.” 

“Well, suppose you let me do it then,” con- 
tinued the Patrol Leader. 

“Oh, very well!” replied his Assistant. “I 
61 


THE NORFOLK ROY SCOUTS 


thought maybe you were asleep. We need a 
Patrol Leader who has some life in him any- 
way. ’ ’ 

“I’d rather have a little less life than some 
people, and more sense !” declared Chet 
sharply. 4 4 That ’s just what I was going to have 
the fellows do anyway/ ’ 

44 Suppose some cranky old farmer thinks 
we’re getting 4 fresh’ and chases us or sicks his 
dog on us, or something?” suggested Sissy 
Smith. 4 4 Then what?” 

4 4 Every fellow’s got to look out for himself,” 
responded the Patrol Leader. 4 4 A Scout is sup- 
posed to, anyway.” 

Just as the boys were scattering to station 
themselves the proper distance apart before set- 
ting out over the hills, fields, and woods which 
lay before them, a red automobile came chug- 
ging along at a fairly rapid pace. Dick Rey- 
nolds recognized it at a glance and, with a sud- 
den idea, jumped into the middle of the road 
and waved his arms wildly. The driver of the 
car, Dr. Minnerly — a local physician, rather 
heavily built, good-natured, and with a pointed 
beard and blue eyes — moved a lever and the car 
slowed down. 


62 


THE START 


‘ i Hello ! ’ ’ lie exclaimed, pleasantly. ‘ * Wliat ’s 
this ? A hold-up ? ’ ’ 

“We’re Boy Scouts,’ ’ answered Dick, point- 
ing to his badge. ‘ 4 1 wanted to ask you some- 
thing. ’ ’ 

Dr. Minnerly jammed on the brakes and 
brought his machine to a full stop. 

“What’s wrong now?” he questioned. 
“Somebody ill?” 

“No, sir. At least not that I know of.” 

“Well, then, what is it? I’m on my way to 
a case.” 

Chet Richards stepped forward. 

“We’re on a search for Ray Clark, who ran 
away from home day before yesterday,” he in- 
formed. “You haven’t happened to see any- 
thing of him have you, sir?” 

“Clark — Clark. Let me see! Is he the thin, 
light-haired boy who lives on Barrett Avenue ? ’ ’ 

“No, sir. He lives on Washington Street. 
He’s about my size and has red hair and 
freckles. He’s pretty husky.” 

The doctor stroked his beard thoughtfully. 

“I don’t seem to recollect him. But it seems 
to me that I noticed a boy such as you describe 
when I was on my way to a case at Rosebank. 

63 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


He had some sort of a bundle or package in bis 
band, and be walked as tbougb be was tired. ’ ’ 

“Gee, I’ll bet that’s Ray Clark !” declared 
George Ferguson. 

“I won’t be positive of course,” continued 
tbe doctor. “I only caugbt a glimpse of bim 
as I was passing. Tbe only reason I noticed 
bim at all was that be was limping slightly, and 
I looked to see if be was one of my patients.” 

“I’ll bet it was Ray!” repeated George. 

“There’s some sort of a factory over at Rose- 
bank,” added Artie Thomas who, with tbe other 
members of tbe Bucktail Patrol, bad come 
closer to listen. 

“It’s Ray, all right!” exclaimed Dick Rey- 
nolds confidently. “That’s just tbe sort of 
place he’d go to. Let’s get there as soon as we 
can! No use wasting time looking around any- 
where else!” 

Chet Richards turned to bim. 

4 ‘ Will you shut up ? ” be inquired. “I’m run- 
ning this Patrol.” 

“Why don’t you run it right then!” retorted 
Dick. ‘ ‘ There ’s no sense in wasting time ! ’ ’ 

“Why don’t you use your bead?” questioned 
Chet. “We don’t know for sure that it’s Ray! 

64 


THE START 


Besides, our orders are to search all the coun- 
try in our section ; and we ’re going to do it ! ” 

The doctor started his machine again. 

4 4 Well, boys,” he said. “I guess that’s all I 
can do for you just now. Little Willie Chris- 
tie fell down the cellar stairs and knocked out 
two of his teeth, besides spraining his wrist — 
and his mother is the sort of woman who always 
worries over trifles.” 

As the machine passed out of sight, Dick Rey- 
nolds spoke again. 

“If we’re going to hunt all over the fool place 
let ’s get at it !” he exclaimed. 4 4 Ray Clark may 
be gone again by the time we get to Rosebank, 
if we don’t get a move on.” 

4 4 All right,” answered Chet. 4 4 We ’re off!” 


CHAPTER V 


A CLUE 

H ARRY RICHARDS separated himself 
from the group, according to the Pa- 
trol Leader’s directions, and started 
to climb the steep bank on the right-hand side 
of Fingerboard Road. 

“Be careful or the hens may peck you!” 
called out Dick Reynolds after him. 

Mindful of the resolve which he had con- 
fided to Chet that morning, Harry made no 
answer. 

“I’ll show some of these fellows whether I’m 
a baby or not before I get through!” he de- 
clared indignantly to himself. 4 ‘ I wish I wasn ’t 
afraid of things, though.” 

After reaching the top of the bank, Harry 
kept along it, taking in everything between it 
and Fingerboard Road. To the right of him, 
exploring the rolling hillsides, was Lloyd Smith ; 
beyond him, George Ferguson; beyond him 
66 


A CLUE 


again, Artie Thomas; and so on down to Dick 
Reynolds, who had the piece of country at the 
extreme right of the Bucktail’s section. Chet 
Richards was the fourth from Fingerboard 
Road, from which position he could signal, if 
he wished, to the Scouts on either side of him — 
who in turn would relay the message to the 
others. 

For some distance Harry found nothing of 
importance, and spent most of his time in 
searching every little thicket or even clump of 
bushes in his territory. Finally, he came to a 
disused gravel quarry, crept cautiously on his 
hands and knees to the edge, and peered over. 
A long look showed him that there was nothing 
except rocks and mud at the bottom, so he kept 
on his way, carefully skirting the edge of the 
quarry, until he came out on the top of a slight 
rise in the ground. 

He stopped to glance about him. The coun- 
try was open — that is to say, there were no 
woods or groups of trees — and stretched away 
unbroken on every side, with the exception 
of that on which Fingerboard Road was 
located. 

Before him, and somewhat to his right, lay 

67 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


a small lake, or rather pond, which emptied into 
the adjacent Sawmill River — in reality little 
more than a creek. On this was situated the 
Sawmill River Power House which supplied the 
power for the lighting, telephone, and trolley 
systems of the entire city of Norfolk, and at 
which there had been a serious explosion only 
that Spring. The power house, however, would 
come in Sissy Smith’s section, so Harry felt no 
particular interest in it. 

Off in the distance, in a sort of valley, could 
be seen several groups of houses, and still fur- 
ther the buildings of a small town, which Harry 
knew to be Rosebank. The barking of a dog, 
not so very far away, came suddenly to his ears, 
and in spite of his resolve Harry instinctively 
shuddered. 

“I hope the old brute isn’t loose,” he mut- 
tered uneasily to himself. 

He looked across the fields to see if any of 
the other Scouts were near enough at hand to 
call, if he needed help. Clambering up a hill- 
side, so far off that he looked more like a fly 
than anything else, was a figure whom Harry 
guessed to be either George Ferguson or Artie 
Thomas. He whistled shrilly and waved his 
68 


A CLUE 


hand in greeting, but got no response. Some- 
what reluctantly, Harry went on. 

A short distance ahead of him, and border- 
ing on Fingerboard Road, was a small house, 
apparently deserted. 

“Ray might be hiding there, ’ ’ thought Harry. 
“ Anyhow, the orders were to search every 
house and building, or else make inquiries. I 
wish I didn’t have to, though!” 

The house proved to be rather a ramshackle 
affair, set a little way back from the road, and 
surrounded by an unkempt yard and an in- 
hospitable-looking barbed wire fence, badly in 
need of repair. The most notable articles of 
adornment were a scraggly pear tree in the 
front yard, a dog kennel at the side, and a dis- 
pirited-looking line of washing in the rear. As 
Harry approached the gate and started to 
glance around the premises, an ugly-looking 
dog, who made up in size for what he lacked in 
breeding, came out of the dog kennel and began 
to growl threateningly. Harry drew back as if 
he had been stung. 

“ Nothing doing there!” he decided. 

He had gone some little distance down the 
road before a sudden thought struck him. 
69 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

Wasn’t he breaking his Scout Oath by not mak- 
ing a search, as he had been instructed to do? 
Supposing Chet asked him if he had visited 
all the houses in his section. What would he 
say? 

Would Dick Reynolds, or even Sissy Smith, 
have any respect for him at all if they knew he 
had been afraid to go near enough to the house 
to even ask questions? Besides, the dog was 
chained. 

“I’m not going to give Dick another chance 
to call me a baby ! ” he resolved. 

He turned in his tracks and went back to the 
house. The dog, which had meantime retreated 
into the kennel, now came out once more, growl- 
ing and pulling at his chain. Harry felt his 
heart sink. 

The house was apparently deserted at that 
moment. The blinds on the lower story were 
tightly closed, and there was no sign of life 
except for the dog. Nevertheless, Harry, stand- 
ing cautiously outside the gate, called out sev- 
eral times, to ask if anybody was home. He got 
no response. 

“What’s the use?” he thought to himself. 
“There isn’t anybody here.” 

70 


A CLUE 


He was just about to move on again when an 
idea occurred to him. 

4 4 I’ll go up and ring the bell anyhow !” he 
decided. 44 Just to be able to say I’ve done it. ,, 

He pushed open the gate and entered the 
yard. The dog changed his growling to vio- 
lent, and rather savage, barking, and flew vi- 
ciously at the intruder. That is to say, he flew 
for the length of his chain; and was then jerked 
heavily back by it, falling to the ground. He 
was up again in an instant, however, and made 
another spring forward — with the same result. 

4 ‘Nice doggy!” called out Harry, in a voice 
which he tried to make steady. “Nice little 
puppy!” 

The “nice little puppy” gave a roar of rage 
and leaped forward with such fury that the 
chain snapped off short, and the infuriated ani- 
mal came tearing down upon the intruder. 

Nearly paralyzed with fright, Harry gave a 
scream of mortal terror and started to run. 
Almost without knowing what he did, he reached 
the pear tree and just barely managed to pull 
himself up on a branch, the dog snapping 
viciously at his foot as he did so. Too fright- 
ened to think clearly at first, he clutched the 
71 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


branch frantically to keep from slipping off it, 
while he closed his eyes and felt his head swim- 
ming. 

“I mustn’t let go!” was his only thought. 

The dog was now barking furiously and 
throwing himself savagely against the trunk 
of the tree, which, being small, quivered under 
the blows. Harry lay there trembling, clutch- 
ing the limb convulsively. Suddenly he took 
heart. In the distance, he heard the sound of 
an approaching automobile. Carefully he wrig- 
gled along the branch to the trunk of the tree. 
Then he raised himself cautiously to a standing 
position and looked towards the road. The car, 
a large red one, was just coming in sight. Harry 
leaned as far out as he dared, shouted, and 
waved his Scout hat, to attract attention. The 
car passed on around the next turn without 
even slowing down. 

4 4 I’m done for!” thought Harry despair- 
ingly. “I wish I’d never come along on this 
old hike.” 

Then he noticed with alarm that the tree be- 
sides being small was a very old and somewhat 
decayed one, and that it seemed to be swaying 
dangerously under the savage assaults of the 
72 


A CLUE 


dog. At that very moment, the brute made an 
unusually fierce attack upon it, and Harry, with 
his heart in his mouth, heard the tree give a 
sharp crack and felt that with a few more such 
strains it would break down and leave him at 
the mercy of the dog. 

‘ ‘ Help ! Help ! ’ ’ he screamed in a paroxysm 
of terror. “Help, somebody! Help!” 

Hardly had he spoken when he heard a sharp 
voice from the road nearby: 

“Who is it? WTiat’s the matter?” 

Looking down, Harry saw a boy in Scout uni- 
form standing just outside the gate. 

‘ ‘ Here I am ! ” he cried. 1 ‘ Get this dog away 
or he ? ll kill me!” 

The other Scout, whom Harry would have 
recognized as one of the members of the J ackal 
Patrol of Troop Five if he had not been too 
frightened to notice anything, took in the situa- 
tion at a glance. 

“Can you drop down and hustle over the 
fence if I get the dog away for a minute?” he 
inquired. 

“I don’t know,” replied Harry, doubtfully. 
“I’ll try.” 

The other Scout walked quietly along the 
73 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


fence until he had reached the corner, turned 
it, and disappeared from view. In another 
moment, a pounding and banging on the wooden 
wall of the house reached Harry’s ears. With 
a fierce howl, the dog left his prisoner and 
rushed madly toward the scene of this new dis- 
turbance. Harry fell, rather than dropped, 
from the tree and made a frantic dash for the 
gate. Just as he reached the road, the other 
Scout came on a run around the corner of the 
fence. 

‘ 4 Let’s get away from here !” he panted. “I 
don’t think the dog will come after us.” 

Nothing loath, Harry followed him, and the 
two had soon put a safe distance between them- 
selves and the dog. 

“I wish I owned a sausage machine!” ex- 
claimed the other. “I know one thing I’d do 
with it.” 

Harry surveyed him. 

4 ‘It’s lucky you came along when you did!” 
he declared. “I’d have been a goner if you 
hadn’t.” 

“If it hadn’t been me, it would have been 
somebody else,” replied the other. “Lots of 
people go along this road and you were making 
74 


A CLUE 


enough noise to wake a dead man. What was 
the matter? Were you scared?” 

“I guess so,” admitted Harry. “You would 
have been, too,” he added in self-defense. 

“What for?” inquired the other. “You 
could have gotten over the fence if you had to, 
and you were up a tree anyhow. The dog 
couldn’t get at you.” 

“You just try it sometime yourself and see!” 
responded Harry. “How did you happen to 
be around?” he inquired, anxious to change the 
subject. 

“Why, I was scouting along the other side 
of Fingerboard, just as you were doing on 
this side. I heard all the rumpus the bow-wow * 
was making and thought I’d take a look 
and see what was up. My name’s Irving 
Watson.” 

“Mine’s Harry Eichards. You belong to 
Troop Two, don’t you? Had any luck in the 
search?” 

“I don’t know whether I have or not. I got 
some information about a fellow who asked 
somebody to recommend him for a job in Eose- 
bank, but I don’t know if it was the right fel- 
low. Just what did he look like?” 

75 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Harry described the appearance of the run- 
away as well as he could, and then added: 

< < Why, don ’t you know Ray Clark ? I thought 
everybody did. He played halfback on the 
grammar school team last Fall.’’ 

‘ 1 Never even heard of him before yesterday. 
He wasn’t in the High School last year, when 
I was, and we have our own grammar school 
up our way. I’ll bet that was the fellow, 
though. ’ ’ 

“Who told you about him?” 

“A man at a garage back along Fingerboard 
Road. He said this fellow came up to him early 
yesterday morning and began talking about 
automobiles. Then he asked the man if he knew 
any place he could get a job in Rosebank. Said 
he wanted to learn the business and knew some- 
thing about running a car already.” 

“One of Ray’s uncles — Sissy Smith’s father 
— owns a car, and he lets Ray fool around with 
it a little. I’ll bet that’s just who it was. Hid 
the man say anything else about him?” 

“ No, ” responded Irving. ‘ ‘ He was busy and 

so ” He broke off suddenly. “Here comes 

somebody in a wagon,” he interposed. “Let’s 
see if he can tell us anything.” 

76 


A CLUE 


Anxious to appear to better advantage in the 
other’s eyes, Harry jumped out into the middle 
of the road and held up his right arm, like a 
traffic policeman. Instead of stopping, the car- 
riage drove straight ahead, and Harry yas 
obliged to make a hasty leap backward to keep 
from being run over. Irving sprang forwards 
and ran a few steps along by the side of the 
carriage. 

“Hid you pass a boy going toward Rose- 
bank?” he inquired. 

The driver of the equipage — a stout, red- 
faced man with two or three chins and a cigar 
stuck aggressively out of one corner of his 
mouth — pulled back on the reins a little and 
leaned slightly over to one side, at seemingly 
great danger of overturning the light wagon. 

“Hid I pass a boy?” he repeated, chewing the 
cigar as he spoke. “Yes, I passed several boys. 
What about it?” 

The horse had slowed down to a walk, and 
Harry drew up alongside. 

“We’re Boy Scouts,” he explained. “And 
we’re hunting for a fellow who ran away from 
home day before yesterday. Have you seen 
him?” 


77 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Have I seen a boy day before yesterday?” 
again repeated the driver. “How do you ex- 
pect anybody to answer a question like that? 
You’ll never make a lawyer!” 

Irving broke in. 

“It wouldn’t be day before yesterday,” he 
continued. “It would be yesterday. He had 
red hair and freckles, wore a dark brown coat 
and light brown trousers, and had on a green 
necktie. Did you see him, please?” 

“Did you see a boy like that, Judge?” the 
driver inquired, turning to his companion in 
the carriage. 

The other — a medium-sized man with a heavy 
black mustache — stopped to polish off his eye- 
glasses before answering. 

“I saw a boy just exactly like that, Doctor,” 
he replied with a solemn wink, which was not 
seen by the two Scouts. “I saw him going 
along the road when I was out in my aut-o- 
mobile.” 

“Do you know where he was going to?” 
asked the credulous Harry. The “Judge” 
winked at the “Doctor” again. 

“I think he told me he was going to spend 
a couple of days at the Biltmore Hotel, before 
78 


A CLUE 


joining the circus/ ’ he responded gravely. Ir- 
ving broke in impatiently. 

“ Won’t you please tell us if you’ve really 
seen anyone like him?” he inquired. ‘ 4 This fel- 
low has run away from home and all the Scouts 
and police are on the lookout for him. There’s 
a reward of fifty dollars for him.” 

The “ Judge” became serious. 

“No, I don’t know anything about him,” he 
replied. “I saw a boy who might answer the 
description a couple of miles further along this 
road yesterday, but I couldn’t be sure it’s the 
right one. I didn’t notice him very particu- 
larly.” 

“We think he’s gone to Kosebank,” explained 
Harry further. “Somebody told us that a fel- 
low like the one we’re looking for wanted to get 
a job at a garage, but wasn’t recommended to 
any particular one.” 

“There are two or three garages in Rose- 
bank,” declared the “Doctor.” “But the big- 
gest one is at the corner of Washington and 
Grand Streets. You might ask there.” 

He pulled the whip from its socket and 
touched the horse lightly with it. 

“Giddap, Pegasus!” he exclaimed. 

79 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


‘ ‘ Thank you, sir ! ’ 9 called out Harry and Ir- 
ving together, as the wagon drove off. 

1 6 You ’re welcome !” returned the Judge. 

‘ 1 Don’t mention it!” added the Doctor. 

“That looks like a pretty good clue to me,” 
declared Harry. 

“It might be lots better,” remarked Irving. 
“But 111 tell our crowd about it. Just where 
did they say the garage was?” 

“Washburn and Grant Streets,” replied 
Harry confidently. 

“I think it was Washington, not Washburn; 
and I wasn’t sure whether he said Grant or 
Grand. ’ ’ 

“Maybe it was Washington,” admitted 
Harry. “But I’m dead certain he said 
Grant.” 

“Probably he did then,” agreed Irving. 
“You were closer to him than I was, so you 
could hear better. He didn’t talk very dis- 
tinctly with that cigar stuck in his mouth any- 
way. ’ ’ 

“It was Grant,” declared the other posi- 
tively. “Say, why wouldn’t it be a good idea 
for both Patrols to meet at Rosebank. It will 
need more than eight fellows to search the town 

80 


A CLUE 

properly, and besides it really comes in both 
of onr sections.” 

“ That’s a good scheme/ ’ agreed Irving. 
“I’ll tell our Patrol Leader. Where shall we 
meet!” 

‘ ‘ Oh, any good place outside the town will do. 
Well see each other and signal when we get 
near.” 

‘ ‘ Well, I guess I’ll have to be looking over 
my section a little more,” declared Irving. 
“See you again later.” 

“Sure thing,” responded Harry cordially. 
“We’ll meet at Rosebank.” 


CHAPTER VI 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


T HIS looks like a good place.” 

“Hope the brook water is good to 
drink.” 


“Hope there aren’t any snakes. This is just 
the kind of country for them.” 

“Let’s go somewhere else, if there are snakes 
around,” proposed Harry Richards, who had 
once been bitten by one when he was very 
young and had a pet aversion to them. 

“This is the best place, all right,” declared 
the Patrol Leader. “We’ll take a chance on 
the snakes. Don’t be such a baby!” he added 
to his younger brother. 

“That must be one of the fellows of Troop 
Five, over there,” stated Dick Reynolds. 
“Let’s signal to him.” 

In a few moments, they were in communica- 
tion with the other troop, and in less than half 
an hour the Jackal Patrol had joined the Buck- 


82 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


tails at the spot chosen for the encampment 
outside of Rosebank. 

“Did you tell your crowd about the tip we 
got?” questioned Irving Watson of Harry as 
the Scouts got together. 

“Yes. Did you?” 

“Sure thing. Phil Elliott — he’s our Patrol 
Leader, you know — thinks the best scheme 
would be for a couple of fellows — one from each 
Patrol — to go around there first and sort of 
look things over.” 

“Why not all go there in a bunch?” objected 
Harry. “That would be safer.” 

“The idea is for the two fellows to go and 
sort of spy on things,” informed Irving. 
‘ ‘ Then if they find out anything the whole crowd 
will go around the next day.” 

“But if two fellows went all alone something 
might happen to them, ’ ’ argued Harry. 4 * They 
might get mobbed by muckers, or something.” 

“There’s a pretty tough crowd at Rose- 
bank,” agreed Irving. “But I guess the two 
fellows can look out for themselves. You aren ’t 
afraid, are you ? ’ ’ 

“No, of course not!” replied Harry. 

“I hope they pick me for one of the fellows 
83 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


to go, ’ ’ continued the other. ■ 1 It would be great 
sport ! ’ 9 

Chet Richards and Phil Elliott approached 
the group. 

“What did you say the address of that 
garage was?” inquired the former. 

“Washington and Grant Streets,” declared 
Harry. Irving nodded an assent. 

“Well, let’s pick a couple of fellows tomor- 
row morning and send them around to look it 
over,” proposed Elliott. “It’s too late to do 
anything more today.” 

“But what will the rest of us be doing?” 
asked Chet. ‘ ‘ Twiddling our thumbs ? 9 9 

“Let’s split up into bunches of two or three 
and make a sort of canvass of the whole town, ’ ’ 
suggested Dick Reynolds, who had joined them. 
“We might run across something.” 

“All right,” remarked Chet. “Get busy on 
cooking dinner now, if you want anything.” 

Shortly after breakfast the next morning, 
Phil Elliott went up to his Assistant Patrol 
Leader. 

“We’ve picked you and Scout Reynolds of 
the other troop to do the spy business, ’ ’ he in- 
formed. ‘ ‘ Better get started right away. ’ ’ 

84 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


“I can’t go,” announced Alan McLean re- 
gretfully. “I cut my foot taking a plunge in 
the brook this morning. Fll have to stay here 
and guard camp.” 

Phil Elliott went up to Chet Richards. 

“ Scout McLean can’t go,” he stated. “Do 
you want me to pick somebody else from my 
troop?” 

“How about it?” inquired Chet, turning to 
Dick Reynolds who was standing nearby. “Is 
there anybody especial you’d like to go with?” 

“I don’t care who goes with me, so long as 
he isn’t a baby,” returned Dick. 

Acting on a sudden impulse, Harry Richards 
spoke up. 

“Let me go,” he proposed. 

“You!” exclaimed Dick scornfully. “Why 
you’d get scared and run if you saw a bonfire 
on a street half a block away!” 

‘ i Shut up ! ” commanded Chet fiercely. “You 
make fun of Harry and you’ll see what you 
get!” 

“Well, he was scared to death that time the 
moving picture machine exploded,” returned 
Dick lamely, rather taken aback at Chet’s atti- 
tude. 


85 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“He can’t help that!” retorted the Patrol 
Leader. “If you’d been in a bad railroad 
accident I guess you would too! Do you 
really want to go?” he added, turning to his 
brother. 

“Yes,” answered Harry firmly. 

“All right then, go ahead. Don’t waste any 
more time.” 

Harry and Dick set off together towards the 
village, and shortly afterwards the remaining 
Scouts split up into parties of two or three and 
struck out for different sections of Rosebank. 
Alan McLean and Floyd Pearce of the Jackals 
and Sissy Smith and Artie Thomas of the 
Bucktails stayed behind to keep guard over the 
camp. 

After they had reached one of the streets of 
the village and gone along it a little ways, Harry 
broke the silence by remarking: 

“Let’s ask somebody where Washington and 
Grant Streets are.” 

“All right,” agreed Dick, rather stiffly. 

Just then a boy who seemed a year or so 
younger than they were, came along. 

“Where are Washington and Grant Streets 
kid?” inquired Harry. 

86 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


“Aw, who you calliIl , a kid?” snarled the 
other. * 6 Who do you think you are ? ’ ’ 

Dick Reynolds suddenly stepped out and 
grabbed the boy by the arm. 

“Don’t get fresh!” he advised. “WRere are 
Washington and Grant Streets?” 

“Gee, what do you want to go down there 
for?” asked the boy in surprise. 

“That’s our business!” retorted Dick. 
“Where are they?” 

“Leggo my arm, and I’ll tell you.” 

“Mind you tell us right!” warned Dick, re- 
leasing him. 

The boy rubbed his arm tenderly and then 
answered : 

“Well, you go three blocks along this road 
until you get to Main Street. Then you turn 
to your left and keep on until you come to 
Washington Street. Then you turn to your 
right and keep along Washington to the bot- 
tom of the hill. Grant Street is about five 
blocks beyond that, near the big shoe fac- 
tory. You want to look out the toughs don’t 
get you. There’s a fierce gang around 
there. ’ ’ 

“Aw, beans!” exclaimed Harry, wishing to 

87 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


appear brave before Dick. “Who minds them? 
Come ahead !” 

Following directions, the two Scouts soon 
reached Main Street and turned down it in the 
direction which the boy had told them. Once 
or twice Harry made a cheerful remark, but 
Dick either paid no attention to it or answered 
gruffly in monosyllables. 

“He thinks I’m still a baby !” declared Harry 
to himself. “ I ’ll show him ! ’ ’ 

Soon they arrived at Washington Street and 
followed along it to the right for several blocks. 
It appeared to be one of the principal business 
streets of the town, though the further they 
went the more unattractive-looking it became, 
while the well-kept stores gave way to cheap 
apartment houses and dilapidated frame build- 
ings, with here and there a saloon. Finally they 
came to the top of a steep hill. 

i ‘ This must be the hill the kid told us about, ’ ’ 
volunteered Harry. Dick made no response. 

“Why don’t you answer a fellow?” de- 
manded Harry in an aggrieved tone. “You 
must think you’re a wooden Indian!” 

“I don’t talk to babies!” responded Dick 
shortly. 


88 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


Harry said no more, and the two Scouts 
walked on in silence. At the foot of the hill, 
the street ran into a sort of public square, or- 
namented chiefly by an ugly cast-iron fountain 
with the water spouting from the mouth of 
what was probably intended to represent a 
whale. Beyond this square, Washington Street 
suddenly became narrower and dirtier, while 
the few remaining stores gave place to squalid 
tenements. 

It was a hot day and the street fairly swarmed 
with dirty, grotesquely-clad children of all ages 
who were, in various ways, seeking relief from 
the hot sun. Half way down the block a water 
hydrant had been turned on and several ragged, 
unkempt small boys were cooling themselves 
by standing in the stream or splashing around 
in the puddles formed by the overflow. 

“This can’t be the place!” declared Harry 
with conviction. “There must be something 
wrong ! ’ ’ 

“Are you sure you got the address right?” 
asked Hick. 

“ ’Course I did!” responded Harry. “That 
kid must have told us wrong.” 

“We may as well make sure, now that we’re 
89 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


here,” observed Dick. “He said five blocks 
beyond the bottom of the hill, didn’t he?” 

“Yes,” returned Harry, whose chief desire 
was to go back. 

“Well then we’ll go and see,” announced 
Dick. “Unless you’re afraid,” he added con- 
siderately. 

“I’m not afraid!” exclaimed Harry. “What 
do you think I am?” 

Four blocks were passed without any notice- 
able alteration for the better in the character 
of the street. 

“The next corner ought to be it,” remarked 
Dick. “But I don’t see anything that looks 
like a garage.” 

“Let’s go back then,” proposed Harry. 

“Getting scared?” asked Dick pleasantly. 

“No, blame you!” returned the other. 

Just at this moment, there was a sudden com- 
motion in the street ahead of them, and the next 
instant an unhappy yellow dog with two large 
tin cans tied to its tail came dashing along the 
sidewalk, yowling vigorously. Behind him 
was a gang of boys of about Harry’s age in 
excited pursuit. 

“That’s a shame!” cried Harry indignantly, 
90 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


remembering the sixth Scout Law. Another 
boy suddenly sprang out on the sidewalk just 
ahead of the dog, and the terrified animal 
turned sharply and tore into the road. In his 
haste to escape from his pursuers, he was blind 
to everything else and ran full tilt against 
Harry’s legs. The unexpected shock knocked 
the dog sprawling, and before he had time to 
regain his feet the nearest of his pursuers was 
upon him. 

“Leave that dog alone!” called out Dick 
sharply. 

Apparently noticing the strangers for the 
first time, the boy looked at them with an ex- 
pression which quickly changed from surprise 
to anger. 

“Who do youse guys t’ink you are!” he de- 
manded in a gruff voice. 

“I’ll show you who I am!” retorted Dick, 
who had a quick temper and loved a scrap. 
‘ ‘ Leave that dog alone ! ’ ’ 

“We’re Boy Scouts,” added Harry, as 
though that settled the matter. The boy’s look 
of anger gave place to one of contempt. 

“Hey, fellers!” he shouted loudly. “Let’s 
murder dese guys!” 


91 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


The gang of toughs, evidently considering 
that boys were more amusing prey than yellow 
dogs, took up the cry and came for them in a 
body. 

‘ ‘ Run ! ’ ’ cried Dick, setting off down the street 
at full speed. Harry needed no second bidding, 
and with the gang almost at their heels they 
raced madly for safety. 

“If we can get back to the fountain we’ll be 
all right,” gasped Dick as they ran. “Can you 
make it?” 

“I don’t know!” panted Harry in reply. 

“You’ve got to make it, whether you can or 
not!” returned Dick; and thereafter the boys 
saved their breath for more useful purposes 
than talking. 

Ordinarily, Dick was a much faster runner 
than Harry, but fear made Harry cover the 
ground as he had never covered it before. All 
at once he tripped over some inequality in the 
pavement and went sprawling. The toughs 
were close at his heels. 

“Don’t leave me!” he begged of Dick. 
“Save me!” 

Dick slackened up in his own pace enough 
to pull Harry to his feet again and in another 
92 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


moment the two Scouts had reached the foun- 
tain and comparative safety. 

4 4 Gee, we were lucky to get out of that alive ! ’ ’ 
panted Dick, as he dashed some of the water 
from the fountain in his face. Harry sat down 
on the rim of the basin and pressed his shin 
tenderly. 

6 i Gee, it ’s bleeding , 7 7 said Dick. 6 1 What hap- 
pened V 7 

“It got cut by one of those tin cans the dog 
belonged to,” explained Harry. “Then when I 
fell I hit it against something or other and made 
it worse. Gee, but it hurts ! 7 7 

“Well, don’t cry about it,” advised Dick. 
“You can fix it up as soon as you get hack to 
camp.” 

WHien they reached the place of encampment, 
they found the four Scouts who had been left 
in charge busy making preparations for 
dinner. 

“WTiaPs the matter?” inquired Irving, as he 
saw that Harry was limping. Dick related their 
adventures and Irving gave a whistle. 

“I wish I’d been there!” he exclaimed. “It 
would have been sport.” 

“You wouldn’t think so if you had this old 
93 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


leg,” returned Harry. “It hurts like the 
dickens ! ’ ’ 

“Aw, that isn’t anything!” declared Dick 
rather scornfully. “Why don’t you make a 
noise like a man once in a while?” 

“I’ll help you fix it up, if you want,” offered 
Irving, who seemed to have taken rather a lik- 
ing to Harry. 

“I think I’d better go and see a doctor,” de- 
clared the latter. 

“Aw, that isn’t anything,” repeated Dick. 
“Don’t be a baby!” 

Harry said no more, hut went with Irving to 
one of the lean-tos, which they had built the 
previous afternoon for shelter. 

As it grew later, the other Scouts, in parties 
of twos and threes, commenced straggling back 
into camp. None of them had anything definite 
to report, but they were all much interested in 
the account of Dick’s and Harry’s search for 
the garage. 

“Guess it must all be a false alarm,” com- 
mented Phil Elliott, of the Jackals. 

“Are you sure you got to the right place?” 
inquired Chet. 

“Of course we did,” responded Dick testily. 

94 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


“ Don’t you think we’ve got sense enough for 
that?” 

“We were on Washington Street all right, 
and the next corner was Grant. I saw the 
sign,” supplemented Harry. 

‘ ‘ Something must be wrong, ’ ’ declared Alan 
McLean. “Maybe you didn’t have the right 
address in the first place.” 

‘ ‘ That may he , 9 9 said Irving. 1 6 The man that 
told us was trying to talk through a big cigar . 9 9 

“Maybe he was just kidding you anyhow,” 
ventured Dick. 

“I don’t think so,” answered Irving. “He 
may have been, though.” 

“What do you think we’d better do?” in- 
quired Chet of Phil Elliott. “We made a 
pretty thorough canvass of the town today, 
anyway. ’ ’ 

“Let’s go on,” advised Dick Reynolds 
promptly. “No use wasting any more time 
here ! ’ ’ 

6 ‘ I wasn 9 t talking to you ! ’ ’ said Chet. “You 
aren’t a Patrol Leader. Don’t butt in!” 

“Somebody’s got to butt in, if you’re ever 
going to get anything done in this Patrol ! ” re- 
torted Dick. “You’re too slow!” 

95 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

“It seems to me we might as well move on 
in the morning/ ’ declared Phil Elliott. “That 
must have just been a false alarm. Ray Whats- 
hisname wouldn’t stop at a place so near home. 
He’s probably ten or fifteen miles off by this 
time.” 

“Then the sooner we start after him again 
the better,” commented the irrepressible Dick. 
Chet turned upon him sharply. 

“Will you shut up!” he exclaimed. “I’ll 
make you if you don’t!” 

‘ 4 It would take more than you to do it ! ” de- 
clared Dick. 

‘ ‘ Oh, cut it out, fellows ! ’ ’ broke in Harry. 

“Well, what do you say we do?” inquired 
Phil Elliott diplomatically. “Move on or hunt 
around here a little?” 

“Oh, let’s move on!” exclaimed several 
voices at once. 

“All right,” agreed Chet. “I think that’s 
the best thing to do anyway.” 

After dinner was over, the Scouts sat in a 
circle around the camp fire which had been built 
and talked over the events of the day and the 
general question of the search, until finally Dick 
gave a yawn and consulted his watch. 

96 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


“It’s half past eight, fellows,’ ’ he observed. 
“ Let’s be getting to bed.” 

‘ 4 That’s a good idea!” approved Chet. “We 
need all the rest we can get if we’re going 
on again tomorrow morning. We’ll keep one- 
hour watches tonight in relays of two fellows, 
just as we agreed. Clam Jamieson and Scout 
Pearce of the Jackal Patrol have the first 
watch, and after them Artie Thomas and Scout 
Jenkins.” 

About three hours after this, Harry Richards 
felt himself poked in the ribs with something 
sharp and a voice, which he recognized as be- 
longing to Artie Thomas, whispered in his ear : 
‘ ‘ Get up, you ! It ’s your watch ! ’ ’ 

Rubbing his eyes sleepily, Harry unrolled 
himself from his comfortable blanket and made 
his way to the camp fire. Already seated by 
it was a figure which proved to be Irving Wat- 
son. 

‘ ‘ Hello, ’ ’ the other greeted him in a low voice. 
“Here we are again.” 

“Yes,” said Harry, “confound it!” 

Irving looked up in surprise. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked. “Are you 
mad at me?” 


97 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Gee, no!” answered Harry. “But my leg 
hurts. I wish I was home.” 

“Is it as had as all that?” inquired Irving. 
“It doesn’t look bad.” 

Harry was resolved not to lose the other’s 
respect. 

“I think maybe I’ve got blood poisoning in 
it, or something,” he announced modestly. 
“I’m going to stick it out though.” 

“Let’s have another look at it,” requested 
Irving. He unrolled the bandage and pressed 
the sore spot carefully with his fingers, 
Harry doing his best not to cry out from the 
pain. Finally Irving started to bandage it up 
again. 

“Why that isn’t anything,” he assured 
Harry. “It’s coming along all right. You 
won’t know you had it in a day or so.” 

This was not quite Harry’s idea of a pleasant 
state of affairs on a hike. 

“Just the same ” he began. Suddenly 

Irving held up his hand for silence. 

4 4 Hush ! ” he whispered. 4 ‘ I thought I heard 
something. ’ ’ 

From the darkness outside the light of the 
camp fire came a faint noise as of some one ap- 
98 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


proaching stealthily. Harry and Irving sprang 
to their feet. 

“Who's that?" called out the latter in a low 
tone. 

The noise stopped for a moment, and then an 
answer came: 

“I've got something to tell you fellers." 

Harry and Irving glanced at each other in 
some uncertainty. Then from the flickering 
shadows stepped a boy of about their own age, 
rather poorly dressed, but otherwise not es- 
pecially bad-looking. 

“Are you guys the Boy Scouts that are hunt- 
ing for a feller what ran away from home?" he 
asked, in a guarded voice. Harry glanced at 
Irving again. 

“We are," he answered, rather hesitatingly. 

“Then vouse is the fellers I'm lookin' for," 
declared their visitor. 

“What do you want to tell us?" inquired Ir- 
ving suspiciously, while Harry peered into the 
shadows fearing that the intruder might have 
companions who were planning a raid on the 
camp. 

“I seen a feller kidnapped an' taken to Si 
Perkin's old house on Orchard Street," in- 
99 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


formed the other. “ Maybe he’s the guy you’re 
lookin’ for. What was he like?” 

Harry described Ray’s general appearance, 
and the boy nodded his head. 

“ That’s the guy! I heard you fellers was 
lookin’ fer somebody, an’ I thought I’d come 
up an’ tell you. If there’s any reward, I want 
half.” 

4 ‘You can have it all,” returned Harry 
generously. “We’re Boy Scouts, so we 
wouldn’t take it anyway. Whereabouts is the 
house?” 

The other gave its location, together with full 
particulars of the kidnapping, which he said 
he had happened to see accidentally, and then 
added : 

“If you an’ the feller what was with you this 
afternoon come by yourselves, I’ll meet you at 
the corner of Main and Orchard and show you 
the house.” 

“WTiy can’t the whole crowd of us come?” 
demanded Irving suspiciously. 

“I wouldn’t dast to do it then. I’d get found 
out an’ the kidnappers would lay for me. If 
there was only two of you they wouldn’t 
notice. ’ ’ 


100 


THE ENCAMPMENT AT ROSEBANK 


“All right,’ ’ promised Harry. “We’ll be 
there. ’ ’ 

“What do you make of it!” asked Irving, 
when the boy had taken himself off. “Looks 
kind of fishy to me.” 

“We’ll tell the whole crowd about it in the 
morning and see what they think,” announced 
Harry. “I know one sure thing, though. I’m 
not going!” 


CHAPTER VII 


RESCUING A KIDNAPPED BOY 
HE N breakfast bad been eaten and 



camp cleaned tbe following morn- 
ing, which was clear but more than 


usually hot, Harry Richards stepped up to the 
Patrol Leader and saluted. 

“Well, what is it, kid?” asked Chet, with an 
elder brother’s patronage. Harry reported the 
events of the preceding night. 

“What do you think we’d better do?” in- 
quired Phil Elliott, who had come up. “Scout 
Watson told me about it. I don’t like the looks 
of it.” 

“Neither do I,” agreed Chet. “It sort of 
looks as though that gang was laying for the 
two fellows who got away yesterday.” 

“Let’s the whole bunch of us go!” proposed 
Sissy Smith eagerly. When it came to any ac- 
tual trouble, Sissy was almost as much of a 
coward as Harry, but he had a sneaking fond- 


102 


RESCUING A KIDNAPPED BOY 


ness for excitement, gained partly from the 
reading of ‘ ‘ thrillers. ' ' 

“Let's!” seconded Dick, who was fond of a 
good scrap so long as the “odds were even.” 
“I'd like to get a crack at the fellows that 
chased ns yesterday!” 

“You can count me out !” exclaimed Harry at 
once. “My leg hurts.” 

“Aw, you're scared!” challenged Dick. 
“Ya-ah!” 

“Oh, shut up!” said Chet. 

“Shut up yourself!” retorted Dick. 

“Cut it out, fellows,” broke in Phil Elliott. 
“We've got to decide what to do.” 

“Let's go!” cried several voices. 

“I think perhaps we'd better,” stated Chet. 
“It may be a real tip, and we don't want to 
take any chances. We can take care of our- 
selves anyway, I guess.” 

“You've got a little sense after all,” de- 
clared Dick. 

“All right then, let's start now!” proposed 
Phil. “What time did the fellow say he'd meet 
you at the corner?” he continued to Irving. 

“He didn't say; but I guess we'll find him 
somewheres around there. If he isn't, we'll 
103 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

have a look for ourselves. He told me the num- 
ber of the house.” 

About an hour later, the twelve Scouts who 
made up the “Committee of Investigation” ar- 
rived at the corner of Main Street and Central 
Avenue, three blocks above Washington Street 
and right at the foot of the steep hill which 
Dick and Harry had descended the afternoon 
before. The neighborhood was a little better 
than that of Washington Street, though not 
much. Central Avenue was a fairly broad 
street, lined with cheap stores, saloons, and an 
occasional two-story frame house, much in need 
of paint. 

“Orchard Street is the next block, isn’t it?” 
questioned Phil Elliott. 

“Yes,” replied Irving. “Hope it’s better 
looking than this.” 

On the contrary, it proved to be slightly 
worse. The stores had almost entirely disap- 
peared, and in their place were rows of cheap 
cottages, placed close together and with only 
a strip of bare earth between them, ornament- 
ed by an occasional weed or broken glass 
bottle. 

“I’ll bet it’s in one of those,” observed Sissy 
104 


RESCUING A KIDNAPPED BOY 

Smith, referring to the cottages. 4 ‘What num- 
ber did the fellow tell you?” 

“ There ’s the fellow now!” exclaimed Irving. 

A shabbily-dressed but not really bad-look- 
ing boy, with a pug nose and a decided tear in 
one leg of his loose corduroy trousers, came out 
of the narrow passage between two of the near- 
by buildings, looking rather doubtfully at the 
party of Scouts, and then came up to them. 

“WTiat’s those other guys doin’ here?” he 
asked Irving. “I told youse not to bring 
them.” 

“What’s the harm?” inquired Irving inno- 
cently. “They wanted to come, just for the 
fun of it.” 

The other boy, who had told Harry that his 
name was Spike Shannon, glanced more closely 
at the crowd, as though sizing them up. 

“All right,” he finally said. “Come along 
an’ I’ll show you where the feller is.” 

“I thought you were afraid to, if there were 
more than two of us,” reminded Irving. Spike 
Shannon rubbed his bare toe on the sidewalk. 

“The kidnappers ain’t there now,” he ex- 
plained at length. “I seen them go away this 
mornin’.” 


105 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


4 ‘Maybe they took the boy with them,” sug- 
gested Phil Elliott. 

“Naw; he’s there. I heard him yellin’ an’ 
hollerin’ somewhere in the house when I come 
along the street just now.” 

Phil Elliott looked at Chet. 

“What do you think?” he asked. “Shall we 
take a chance?” 

“The guy was hollerin’ bloody murder,” sup- 
plemented Spike. “I’d have gone in myself, 
only I was skeered to.” 

“Oh, let’s go!” exclaimed Dick Reynolds, 
who was of an adventurous disposition. “We 
can take care of ourselves.” 

“The kidnappers ain’t there now anyhow,” 
repeated their guide. “They went away this 
mornin ’ in a big black automobile. ’ ’ 

The big black automobile appealed to Sissy 
Smith’s imagination. 

“Come ahead, fellows!” he exclaimed. 
“Who’s afraid?” 

“We don’t have to go inside the house any- 
way,” Phil Elliott remarked to Chet, who was 
still hesitating. 

“All right, everybody,” said Chet. “Come 
along.” 


106 


RESCUING A KIDNAPPED BOY 


Following Spike Shannon, the Scouts went 
along Orchard Street — so named because there 
had once been a crab-apple tree somewhere near 
it — for about half a block. Then they came to 
a narrow lane between two unprepossessing 
buildings, one of which was closed and appar- 
ently unoccupied. The lane evidently led to 
the side entrance of the building. Spike Shan- 
non turned down it. 

“This is the way, fellers/ ’ he informed them. 

Chet Richards drew back. 

“I’m not going down in that hole,” he 
declared. “And none of the rest of us, 
either. ’ ’ 

“Oh, come on!” exclaimed Dick impatiently. 
“What you getting cold feet about?” 

“That’s where the kidnappers left the guy,” 
stated Spike. “Listen, an’ you’ll hear him hol- 
lerin’.” 

The Scouts strained their ears, but no sound 
except the usual noises of the street on a hot 
summer’s day came to them. 

“He ain’t doin’ it jest now,” announced 
Spike. ‘ ‘ He was when I come along here ’bout 
an hour ago. Maybe he’s fainted!” 

Irving Watson was tender hearted. 

107 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Oh, come on!” he proposed. “We can’t do 
any more than get killed!” 

“Wait a minute,” said Chet. “Is there a 
policeman anywhere around?” 

“I ain’t goin’ to have no fly cops buttin’ in!” 
declared Spike. ‘ 6 They’d take all the reward. ’ ’ 

‘ 1 Oh, come on ! ” repeated Dick. “I’m going, 
anyway. ’ ’ 

He took a step down the alley, but Chet seized 
him by the arm. 

“No you don’t!” he said. “We all go to- 
gether, if we go at all.” 

At that moment a noise like muffled sobbing 
came from the house — apparently in the upper 
portion. 

“That’s him,” declared Spike ungrammati- 
cally. “He was doin’ that all the mornin’ un- 
til jest now.” 

“Let’s go!” exclaimed Dick, for the third 
time. 

The sobbing was mingled with indistinct cries 
of “Help! Help!” Chet stepped further out 
on the sidewalk and looked up and down the 
street. No policeman was in sight. 

“Shall we take a chance on it, fellows?” he 
asked. 6 ‘ It may just be a trap. ’ ’ 

108 


RESCUING A KIDNAPPED BOY 


“I ain’t try in’ to work no game on yon fel- 
lers,” assured Spike. “Dis is on de level. I 
want dat reward.” 

Phil Elliott looked at the boys in his patrol. 
They all nodded their heads. 

“ We’ll go!” declared Phil. 

“Come ahead, then,” returned Chet. 

The twelve boys followed Spike Shannon 
down the alleyway for about fifty feet. Then 
their guide stopped before a side entrance door, 
opened it, and disclosed a dark, narrow pas- 
sage. Even in the bright July day, it was pos- 
sible to see distinctly for only five or ten feet. 
Phil Elliott stopped short. 

“Got a flashlight, anybody!” he inquired. 
“We want to see where we’re going.” 

Dick Reynolds promptly produced one and 
flashed its light about the hallway. It only par- 
tially dispelled the gloom, but it was sufficient 
to show a rickety staircase in the back part of 
the hall, up which Spike Shannon was already 
mounting. 

“Dis is de way, fellers!” he called back to 
them. “De guy’s upstairs.” 

“We aren’t going up there!” declared Chet. 
“How do we know what we’d find?” 

109 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Dis is straight,’ ’ reiterated Spike. “I want 
dat reward.” 

“Oh, beans, I’m going!” stated Dick. 

“If yon go, we all go,” said Chet. 

The little party of Scouts ascended the creak- 
ing staircase, Dick flashing his light continu- 
ously. The upper floor, when reached, proved 
to be bare and untenanted. Keeping together, 
so as to avoid being taken by surprise, the boys 
went from room to room, carefully examining 
every nook and corner and peering inside the 
cramped, dusty closets. The place seemed to 
be deserted. 

“Now was I stringin’ youse guys?” de- 
manded Spike triumphantly. 

“I don’t see any kidnapped boy yet,” re- 
marked Phil Elliott. 

“Maybe he’s downstairs,” returned Spike. 
“He’s somewhere in dis house, or I’ll eat my 
hat.” 

The Scouts returned to the lower floor and 
examined it carefully, as they had done the 
other. No trace of a kidnapped boy could be 
found. 

“P’raps he’s in de cellar,” suggested Spike. 
“Dis is de way.” 


110 


RESCUING A KIDNAPPED BOY 


He opened a small door under the main stairs 
and disclosed nothing but inky blackness. 

“Pm not going down in that hole!” declared 
Chet with conviction. 

“Oh, come ahead!” exclaimed the adventur- 
ous Dick. “We may as well take a look. He 
might be there after all!” 

Even as he spoke, there came a sort of moan- 
ing sound, followed by a faint call for help from 
the darkness. 

“Now youse can hear him!” remarked Spike. 
“De guy’s down there, sure!” 

‘ ‘ How do we know who it is ? ” demanded the 
skeptical Chet. “It may just be a fake.” 

“Oh, come on!” said Dick. 

But Chet, being Patrol Leader, put his foot 
down firmly for once. 

“Nothing doing!” he announced in positive 
tones. “We aren’t going to take chances in a 
place like that. What do you think ? ” he added, 
turning to Phil Elliott. 

“I don’t like it either,” returned the other 
Patrol Leader. “If a gang was laying for us 
down there, we wouldn’t stand any chance at 
all. I think we’d better report it to the police, 
and let them search.” 


Ill 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Spike Shannon suddenly stuck his head down 
the stairs and gave a shrill whistle. 

* ‘ Look out, fellows !” cried Phil. “Every- 
body for the door!” 

The whistle had been answered by a chorus 
of whoops, and there was a sound of clattering 
feet on the cellar stairs. Without an instants 
delay, the trapped Scouts made a rush for the 
door by which they had entered the building 
and crowded through it in breathless haste. 
Having reached the lane once more, they made 
at full speed for the street, with the gang of 
toughs whooping and yelling almost at their 
heels. Dick Reynolds, who happened to be lead- 
ing, suddenly ran full tilt into the arms of a 
large policeman, who was patrolling his beat. 

“Now what’s up?” cried the officer of the 
law, clutching Dick tighter, as he instinctively 
struggled to escape. “I’ve got ye!” 

Chet Richards ran up and breathlessly ex- 
plained matters. 

“They’re right behind us!” he ended. 

But at this rather unexpected turn of affairs, 
the gang had melted away like a snowball on 
a red-hot stove. 

The policeman released Dick. 

112 


RESCUING A KIDNAPPED BOY 


“You’re lucky that you got away at all ! y ? he 
informed the boys. “ That’s the Hogan’s Alley 
gang, I guess; and they’re a bad lot. What 
were you doing down there anyway!” 

“We were hunting for a runaway boy,” ex- 
plained Chet. “And a fellow told us that he 
had been kidnapped and was being kept a pris- 
oner in that house. ’ ’ 

Then he went on to relate all the particulars 
of Ray Clark’s departure from home and the 
search which the Scouts had thus far made for 
him. 

“Come along up to the station house with 
me, ’ ’ said the policeman, when the tale had been 
finished. “I’ll see if there’s been any report to 
Headquarters about him. I think we got word 
to be on the lookout for a runaway boy our- 
selves. ’ ’ 

The twelve somewhat chastened Scouts fol- 
lowed their new guide to the police station — a 
red brick and white stone building on Main 
Street — and went with him into the large court- 
room. The policeman left them standing near 
the entrance door while he went up and held a 
short conversation with the Sergeant at the 
desk. Then he returned to the boys. 

113 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


‘ ‘ There ’s a report come in that a boy 
with red hair just got a job today with Pete 
Erwin, the hardware man on upper Main 
Street,’ ’ he told them. “ Maybe it’s the boy 
you’re after. Do any of you know him by 
sight?” 

“Sure!” responded Chet promptly. 

“Well, I’ll tell you what you do. Some of 
you go around there and see if you can identify 
him. If it’s the right boy, you come back and 
tell us, and we’ll do the rest.” 

“Thank you, sir,” replied Chet. 

When they were back in the street once more, 
Chet turned to Phil Elliott. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go around 
to Erwin’s store today,” he declared. “It’s 
after lunch time already and by the time we 
have some lunch and get to the store, it will be 
the middle of the afternoon. Then, even if we 
find out that it is Ray and get word to Police 
Headquarters, they probably won’t send any- 
one around until tomorrow, because the store 
must close about five or six o’clock in the after- 
noon. Then if Ray has seen any of us spying 
on him, he’ll have plenty of chance to get away 
again. ’ ’ 


114 


RESCUING A KIDNAPPED BOY 


“What do we need the police for anyway?” 
questioned Dick Reynolds. “You wouldn’t want 
the police sicked on you if you were in Ray’s 
place. Why can’t we capture him ourselves, 
the way we meant to do ? ” 

4 ‘ I think that ’s right ! ’ ’ broke in Phil Elliott. 
“There’s no use in calling in the police, espe- 
cially for a fellow you know. Why can’t we all 
go around there tomorrow and do the job up 
properly?” 

“What’s the use of waiting until tomorrow?” 
asked Dick Reynolds, who was impatient of de- 
lay. “Never put off until tomorrow what you 
can do today.” 

“Sure — if you can do it better then,” an- 
swered Chet. “If we get Ray this afternoon 
we ’ll have to keep him in camp overnight ; and 
then he might get away again. If we get him 
tomorrow morning, we can make Norfolk easy 
by the end of the afternoon. Use your head a 
little, why don’t you?” 

Dick said nothing, and as the question ap- 
peared to be settled, the Scouts made their way 
back to the encampment. The four boys who 
had been left in charge, came running towards 
them to hear the news. Chet, and several oth- 
115 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


ers, told it to them, rather emphasizing the ad- 
venture with the gang of toughs. 

“Gee, Pm glad I wasn’t there!” commented 
Harry Richards unguardedly. 

“Blame baby!” muttered Dick to himself. 


CHAPTER VIII 


A CAPTURE 

T ELL them about what you saw, Artie/ ’ 
suggested Floyd Pearce of the Jackal 
Patrol, who, being the youngest Scout 
in the party, had been one of those left behind. 

Artie Thomas was ordinarily bashful, but he 
was so full of his news that he was almost burst- 
ing. 

“I saw Ray Clark in the village myself !” he 
announced proudly. 

“You did!” exclaimed Phil Elliott. 

“What were you doing in the village?” asked 
Chet. “We left you to guard camp.” 

“He went to get some butter and eggs for 
dinner,” explained Harry. “And he thinks 
he saw Ray Clark on the other side of the 
street.” 

“It was Ray, all right!” declared Artie. 
“Besides, he had red hair and freckles.” 

“How many freckles?” inquired a voice. 

117 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


‘ 4 Twenty-seven and a half, ’ ’ responded Artie 
at once. 

‘‘Then it must have been somebody else. Ray 
Clark’s only got twenty-seven.” 

“Cut out the fooling, fellows,” directed 
Chet. “Did you follow him to see where he 
went?” 

“He went into a hardware store and walked 
right behind the counter as if he belonged 
there . 9 9 

“You didn’t happen to notice the name of the 
store, did you ? ’ ’ interrupted Dick. 

4 4 Course I did ! Wharf; kind of a Scout do you 
think I am? It was Ewing, or something like 
that.” 

4 4 It wasn’t Erwin, was it?” 

4 4 Yes; that was it.” 

Phil Elliott gave a whistle. 

4 4 I’ll bet we’ve got him treed this time,” he 
observed. 

4 4 Well, we’ll go around there the first thing 
tomorrow morning and find out, ” declared Chet. 
4 4 Then if it really is Ray, we’ll take him hack 
to Norfolk with us in the afternoon.” 

“I bet we’ll have our hands full making him 
go if he doesn’t want to,” prophesied Sissy 
118 


A CAPTURE 


Smith. “Ray can fight like a couple of wild 
tom-cats with a dog after them.” 

“Aw, beans !” declared Chet. “I can lick 
him myself — if I want to bad enough. Anyway, 
if he won’t come quietly we’ll bring him back 
in a stretcher. You can carry one end and 
Harry the other. ’ ’ 

“No, thanks!” declared Harry. “I’ll need 
a stretcher myself, I’m thinking, the way this 
shin hurts.” 

i 1 Oh, dry up about your old shin ! ’ ’ exclaimed 
Dick. “Want me to kiss it for you and make 
it well ? ’ ’ 

“I’ll ‘kiss’ you, if you don’t look out,” re- 
turned Harry. ‘ ‘ Then you won ’t be able to go 
to the telegraph station tonight and send a re- 
port in to the Scout Commissioner, if the Pa- 
trol Leader tells you to. ’ ’ 

“I’m going myself,” stated Chet. “I want 
to be sure it’s done right.” Dick glared at 
him. 

“Wonder if there’ll be any instructions wait- 
ing there for any of us?” interposed Phil El- 
liott hurriedly. 

“I don’t believe so,” answered Chet. “We’re 
the only ones that have really found out any- 
119 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


thing about Ray Clark — unless there are two 
of him.” 

It was growing late in the afternoon; and 
the four boys whose duty it was built the camp 
fire and set about preparing dinner. Thanks 
to the eggs and butter which had been brought 
from the village, the meal was much more en- 
joyable than the one on the previous day had 
been, and Chet Richards gave a sigh as he wiped 
the last trace of yellow from his mouth. 

“I hate to think of walking ’way over to that 
old telegraph station,” he declared lazily. 
“Who wants my job?” 

“I’ll go,” offered Phil Elliott. “I’ve got to 
send in the report from my own patrol any- 
how.” 

Chet jumped to his feet. 

‘ ‘ I was only fooling ! ” he exclaimed. ‘ 1 We ’ll 
go together.” 

They set off through the gathering twilight, 
and soon disappeared from view across the 
fields. 

“I hope nothing happens to them,” remarked 
Dick uneasily. “That gang of toughs may still 
be on the lookout for any of our crowd.” 

It was growing dusk rapidly, and the camp 
120 


A CAPTURE 


fire squad piled on more wood until the blaze 
reached higher. The other Scouts drew back 
further from the heat. 

4 4 How far is it to the telegraph office ! ’ ’ asked 
Sissy Smith, after a while. 

4 4 About half a mile or so,” somebody replied 
vaguely. 4 4 The fellows ought to be back in 
about an hour — allowing for the time in send- 
ing messages, and so forth. ’ ’ 

Sunny Jenkins, of the Jackal Patrol, lugged 
out his dollar watch and placed it on the ground 
where the light of the fire fell on it. 

4 4 They’ve been gone about ten minutes, so 
far,” he informed. 4 4 They ought to be back by 
quarter past nine.” 

Slowly the hands of the watch crept around 
the face of the dial. The boys around the fire 
talked in low tones, with an occasional laugh at 
some jest or other. From time to time, Dick 
glanced at the watch. 

4 4 It’s after nine o’clock now,” he finally an- 
nounced. 

The hands of the watch pointed to quarter 
past nine, then twenty minutes after, then half 
past, and finally to twenty-five minutes of ten. 
Dick grew still more uneasy. 

121 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“ Something must be wrong !” he declared 
solemnly. ‘ ‘ I think we ought to get up a 
searching party.’ ’ 

4 ‘Let’s wait until ten o’clock,” suggested Ir- 
ving Watson. ‘ ‘ If they aren’t back by that time 
we’ll go after them.” 

The hands of the watch dragged on to twenty 

minutes of ten, quarter of, ten minutes of 

Then from across the fields came a familiar 
Patrol call. 

“That’s Phil Elliott,” announced Irving, 
in a relieved tone of voice. In another mo- 
ment, the two Patrol Leaders had joined the 
group. 

“What kept you?” demanded Dick crossly. 
“You had us worried. You’re dead slow!” 

“We waited around at the telegraph office 
after we sent our own messages, to see if there 
was any answer to them, ’ ’ explained Chet. ‘ ‘ I 
should think any idiot would know that!” 

“Was there any?” inquired Irving. 

“Not a thing,” answered Phil. “I guess 
we’re the only crowd that’s found out any- 
thing.” 

After this, the Scouts rolled themselves up 
in their blankets and went to sleep, with the 
122 


A CAPTURE 

exception of the two who had the first watch 
of the night. 

The following morning turned out to he 
cloudy, with a slight, drizzling rain falling. 

“ Let’s wait until tomorrow,’ ’ suggested 
Harry. 

“What’s the matter?” inquired Dick. 
“Afraid of getting wet?” 

“You can stay here and help guard camp, if 
you want,” proposed Chet. “Does your leg 
still hurt?” 

“Want us to bring you back a rattle and a 
bottle of milk?” asked Dick. “We’ll be doing 
a Good Turn if we do.” 

1 1 Oh, let the kid alone ! ’ ’ exclaimed Chet. 

“Aw, why don’t you let him take care of 
himself?” Dick returned. “He’s getting old 
enough. ’ ’ 

“I think I’d rather go,” announced Harry. 
“This leg of mine hurts like the dickens, 
though,” he added. 

“Too bad about you,” declared Dick. “I’ll 
bet you wouldn’t hear me squealing about it all 
the time, if I had it.” 

“I just wish you did, then,” retorted Harry. 
“That’s all!” 


123 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Say, if you two fellows don’t stop jawing 
each other you won’t get any breakfast,” an- 
nounced Irving. “What do you think this is — 
a Debating Society?” 

WTien the meal was over, the entire party of 
Scouts made their way to that part of Rose- 
bank where Erwin’s store was located. Arriv- 
ing at the street corner, half a block distant, 
they halted at a signal from the Patrol Lead- 
ers. 

“We’ve got to do this carefully, fellows,” 
observed Chet. “If we went right up to the 
store in a bunch, Ray would probably see us 
coming and get away somehow.” 

“Besides,” added Harry, “if it isn’t Ray 
after all Mr. Erwin would think we had an aw- 
ful nerve to butt in to his store that way. ’ ’ 

“Why can’t we sort of hang ’round until Ray 
comes out to do an errand or something?” sug- 
gested Artie Thomas. “Then if it really is 
Ray, we can nab him without making any fuss 
about it; and if it isn’t, we can leave him 
alone.” 

“That looks like the best scheme to me, too,” 
declared Phil Elliott. 

“Suppose he doesn’t come out at all?” 

124 


A CAPTURE 

queried Sissy Smith. * ‘ That would be just like 
him. ’ 9 

i 1 Well hang around until about eleven 
o’clock, and if he hasn’t come out by that time 
we’ll go in the store after him,” decided Chet, 
looking at the other Patrol Leader to see if he 
agreed with him. Phil nodded his head. 

“That’s the idea! And we’ll all scatter and 
hide in different places along the street, on each 
side of the store, and let the fellow get about 
half a block away from it before we do any- 
thing. Then, if it’s the fellow we want, we can 
all close in on him at once.” Chet nodded in 
turn. 

* ‘ Right you are ! Everybody scatter and keep 
a sharp watch on anyone that comes out of the 
store. If it’s Ray, give three short, loud 
whistles, and we’ll all know what to do.” 

Harry Richards, whose leg did not really 
bother him unless he stopped to think about it, 
strolled a little way along the street and then 
leaned carelessly against the window ledge of 
one of the stores, where a small showcase, 
standing on the sidewalk, partly concealed him 
from view. Further along, in different places 
of concealment convenient for observation, were 
125 


THE NORFOLK ROY SCOUTS 


other members of either the Bucktail or the 
Jackal Patrol. In order, they were : Chalmers 
Jamieson, Dick Reynolds, Irving Watson, Ar- 
tie Thomas, Alan McLean, and George Fergu- 
son. Chet Richards, Ken Davis, Sissy Smith, 
and the remaining members of the Jackal Pa- 
trol were to take np their posts along the street 
on the further side of the store; and had gone 
around the block so as to reach their stations 
without having to pass in front of the place 
where they suspected Ray Clark to be. 

For a long time nothing happened. Harry’s 
leg began to hurt him a little, from standing 
still so long on it, and he shifted his position 
so as to bring the weight mostly on the other 
foot. Various people passed along the side- 
walk in front of him — some of them glancing 
at him rather curiously, as if they wondered 
what he was doing there. Harry began to wish 
that there was something for him to sit down 
on, to relieve the pain in his leg, and felt almost 
tempted to go out in the open and sit down on 
the curb stone. Then he decided not to. 

“Dick Reynolds would call me a baby again,’ ’ 
he thought to himself. 

A sudden clanging and clattering came from 
126 


A CAPTURE 


down the street and a fire engine came by at 
full speed, the driver leaning forward in his 
seat. 

“I wonder if we ought to go to the fire and 
help out, if we can?” mused Harry. 

He glanced up and down the street to see if 
any of the other Scouts had come out of their 
hiding places for that purpose. None of them 
had. 

“ Probably it’s only a false alarm / ’ decided 
Harry. “Or else it won’t amount to anything 
anyway.” 

All at once, three short, loud whistles came 
to his ear. He had been keeping rather behind 
the showcase to avoid being seen from Erwin’s 
store ; but now he took a quick step forward into 
full view and looked down the street. He 
guessed from the sound that the signal must 
have come from one of the Scouts stationed 
near the hardware store — probably either 
George Ferguson or the Assistant Patrol 
Leader of the Jackals, Alan McLean. 

A red-headed boy, who had evidently just 
come out of the hardware store, was engaged 
in a tussle with a Scout — who had apparently 
sprung out from his hiding place as soon as he 
127 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


had given the signal to the others. As Harry 
watched, the boy broke away from his intend- 
ing captor, and, finding his way back to the 
store blocked, started to dash along the street 
in Harry’s direction. 

Two more figures, whom Harry judged to be 
.Artie Thomas and Irving Watson, leaped out 
from somewheres; and the foremost made a 
grab for the boy. The fugitive eluded him and, 
seeing that escape in that direction as well as 
the other was blocked off, turned at right an- 
gles, plunged into a sort of alleyway between 
two stores, and was lost to sight. 

Forgetting his game leg, Harry instantly 
joined with the others in the chase. The alley 
led at once into a sort of courtyard in the rear 
of the stores. On three sides of it were the 
walls of the buildings themselves, and on the 
fourth a tall iron fence with spikes. 

“He couldn’t climb over that!” exclaimed 
Phil Elliott, as the Scouts rushed into the court- 
yard. “He must be hidden somewhere.” 

In the wall of one of the buildings was an 
open window, leading to the dark and appar- 
ently unoccupied room. 

“Probably a store room,” remarked Dick 
128 


A CAPTURE 


Reynolds. “I’ll bet that’s where he’s gone!” 

‘ ‘ Who ’ll go in with me to find out?” inquired 
Phil Elliott. 

Several voices replied in the affirmative, and 
Chet, Phil Elliott, Irving Watson, Dick Rey- 
nolds, and Alan McLean clambered in turn 
through the small opening. Last, came Harry 
Richards, who was afraid of being called a 
baby if he remained behind. As he landed on 
the floor, he barked his sore shin against some- 
thing or other which projected from the con- 
glomeration with which the room was stored, 
and gave a sharp, 4 ‘Ouch!” of pain. 

“Wait till I light a match!” called out Chet. 

As he spoke, there was a sudden rush from 
the darkness and then a cry, followed by the 
sound of scuffling. 

“Now I’ve got you!” cried Dick Reynolds’ 
voice. 

Chet hastily struck his match, and its flick- 
ering shadows dimly revealed the figures of two 
boys wrestling and panting on the floor, in close 
proximity to a rusty length of discarded stove 
pipe. Some of the Scouts flung themselves upon 
the fighters, and in a moment more the under- 
neath figure was effectually subdued. 

129 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Now we’ll have a look at him!” stated Dick, 
pulling out his pocket flashlight. He sent a 
beam of light into the other’s face. 

“Why, it isn’t Ray Clark at all!” he ex- 
claimed in surprise. 

“Leave me alone!” cried the strange boy. 
“I’ll get the cops after you!” 

“What in thunder!” ejaculated Alan Mc- 
Lean, who was sitting on him. 

“Let him up!” ordered Chet. 

Rather angry, but apparently more scared 
than anything else, the boy regained his feet 
and began brushing off his clothes. He was 
about Irving’s build, and had red hair and 
freckles. 

“Isn’t that the fellow we were after?” de- 
manded Alan McLean, who was the one who 
had given the signal. 

“No; of course not!” returned Chet sharply. 
“Don’t you know Ray Clark by sight?” 

“No: but this fellow looks like the descrip- 
tion on the posters.” 

Dick Reynolds turned on him. 

“You ought to have kept still if you weren’t 
sure!” he declared. Chet Richards explained 
matters to the boy. 


130 


A CAPTURE 


“Is there any other fellow working in 
Erwin’s store ?” he questioned, in conclu- 
sion. 

“There’s Charlie Simpson; hut he’s older 
than me, and he’s been working there for a 
couple of years. You guys are too fresh!” 

“We’re sorry,” stated Alan. “We didn’t 
know we were after the wrong fellow, until 
just now. You can take it out on me — if you 
think you can do it.” 

The other sized him up carefully. 

“Aw, I don’t want to hurt you,” he stated 
finally. 

“What made you run when we tried to get 
you, if you weren’t afraid of being caught?” 
inquired Phil. 

“Aw, talk sense!” returned the hoy. 
“Wouldn’t you run if a guy jumped out on you 
like that?” 

“Come on, fellows!” ordered Chet. “Let’s 
get out of here. There’s nothing more for us 
to do in this town. ’ ’ 

By the time the Scouts returned to camp it 
was lunch time, and after the meal was finished 
they cleaned up the camping ground thor- 
oughly, packed their blanket rolls once more, 
131 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


and set off on their search through the country, 
again splitting up into two patrols. 

The Scouts of the Bucktail Patrol scattered 
as before, each one searching his own section 
as thoroughly as possible. They soon left 
Rosebank behind them and passed out into the 
open country. Along towards the end of the 
afternoon, Chet Richards came in sight of a 
small hamlet, seemingly built around the rail- 
road station of a branch line. 

“This will be a good place to camp over- 
night, ’ ’ he decided to himself. 6 * Then I can tel- 
egraph my report back to Norfolk. I’ll send 
it before dinner, this time.” 

He waved the signal meaning, “Close In” to 
George Ferguson and Artie Thomas, whose 
sections were on either side of his own. They 
relayed it to the rest of the Patrol, and the 
Scouts came up to their Patrol Leader. 

Chet led them to a spot which he had picked 
out for the encampment. Then he turned to 
Dick Reynolds. 

“ You’re in charge for a while!” he stated. 
“I’m going to the telegraph office. Save some 
dinner for me, if I don’t get back in time.” 

Just as the others were cleaning up the rub- 
132 


A CAPTURE 


bish after the meal, Chet returned, out of 
breath, and with a face which spoke of news 
of some sort. 

“I sent in my report about the fellow in Er- 
win’s store not being Ray,” he announced, 
panting somewhat from his run. ‘ 4 Then I hung 
round to see if there were any instructions 
from the Scout Commissioner. I got this.” 

He unfolded a much crumpled telegram and 
spread it out on his knees. The other boys 
crowded around and examined it by the light 
of the camp fire. It read : 

Clark probably traced to Portland and lost sight of. 

“They didn’t waste many words on that tele- 
gram!” commented Ken Davis. 

“It’s all we need to know, though,” declared 
Dick. “Now our job is to go straight to Port- 
land and get on his track again ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTER IX 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 

H ARRY RICHARDS awoke the next 
morning with the cut in his leg almost 
entirely healed up. As a consequence, 
he was feeling in his usual spirits and even 
got a “call-down” from the Patrol Leader 
when he pushed Sissy Smith over backwards 
into a muddy spot on the bank of the brook 
where the boys were taking their morning 
plunge. 

“Cut that out, kid!” warned Chet. “We’ve 
got other things to do besides ‘rough-house.’ 
We’ll have all the work we want when we get 
to Portland. Better save your strength — what 
there is of it.” 

“When do we start?” inquired Dick Rey- 
nolds. “Right after breakfast, I suppose.” 

“Yes. Portland is only ten or twelve miles 
from here, and we ought to make it in time for 
lunch — if we don’t lose the way.” 

134 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 


“Wonder if the Troop Five patrol got the 
same message we did,” ventured Ken Davis. 
“Maybe we’ll meet them on the way. They 
were a pretty nice crowd of fellows.” 

“I don’t believe they did,” declared Dick. 
“The fellows in our own troop are about the 
only ones that really know Ray Clark by sight, 
so the other fellows wouldn’t be any good even 
if they got there.” 

“Besides, it’s only a chance,” supplemented 
Chet. “It may turn out to be another false 
alarm, just like the one here. There are lots 
of red-headed boys — with freckles.” 

“Are there any Boy Scout troops in Port- 
land?” asked George Ferguson, stopping to 
splash some water back at Harry. 

“Sure to be. There are Boy Scout troops 
everywhere, and Portland is about half as large 
as Norfolk anyway.” 

“There are two big factories there,” stated 
Harry, trying to duck George, unsuccessfully. 

“One,” corrected Chet. “It’s an automo- 
bile factory.” 

“You think you know it all, don’t you?” was 
Harry’s rejoinder. 

“Guess you’re feeling all right again today, 
135 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


aren’t you, kid?” asked his elder brother. 
“You’re getting fresh again.” 

< ‘ Sure I ’m feeling all right ! ’ ’ returned Harry, 
just managing to step aside as George dove for 
his feet. “You’d better look out who you call 
kid, though!” 

“Well, that’s all you are,” broke in Dick 
Reynolds. 

“I’ll show you some day whether I’m a kid 
or not!” promised Harry. 

In another hour breakfast had been eaten, 
camp cleaned, blanket rolls packed, and the eight 
boys had set off in the general direction of 
Portland, twelve miles distant by road. 

None of them knew that section of the coun- 
try very well, but Dick Reynolds thought he 
did, and upon his advice they tried several 
short cuts across fields, finally coming out 
on a road which led from the unknown and dis- 
appeared, through some woods, in an equally 
mysterious direction. 

“Which way do we go along it?” inquired 
Ken Davis. “I’m all mixed up!” 

“This way,” Dick answered confidently, 
pointing in the direction of the woods. Chet 
pulled out his watch and glanced up at the hot 
136 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 


July sun. Next he pointed the hour hand of the 
watch directly at it, consulted the dial for a mo- 
ment, and then said : 

“No we don’t ! We go the other way. Port- 
land is northeast.” 

After a short time, however, the road took 
a turn and ran northwest. The Scouts stopped 
and held a consultation. 

“Let’s cut across the fields again,” suggested 
Dick impatiently. “As long as we use a watch 
for a compass, we can’t go far wrong.” 

“No, let’s go by the road!” objected Harry, 
who did not like the rough walking. ‘ 1 Then as 
soon as we meet anybody we can ask him.” 

“Afraid of snakes and hop-toads?” inquired 
Dick. 

“No!” retorted Harry. 

“All right then,” agreed Chet. “Come 
ahead. ’ ’ 

Leaving the road, they struck out across the 
rolling and slightly wooded country. At first, 
their way led them over a comparatively level 
field, whose only unpleasant features were 
rocks, low shrubbery, and brambles. No path 
was in sight. 

The heat of the day was already intense, and 
137 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Artie Thomas wiped the perspiration from his 
forehead and gave an i ‘ Ouch ! ’ ’ as his hand hit 
against some brambles. 

“This looks like a good place for snakes!” 
he declared uneasily. “Let’s go some other 
way. ’ ’ 

“Beans!” retorted Harry. “Who’s afraid 
of snakes?” 

As he spoke, he gave a sudden scream and 
began hopping wildly up and down, hugging 
one ankle in pain. 

“ Oh ! ” he cried. ‘ ‘ Something bit me ! 7 ’ 

Chet, who was leading the party, stopped in 
his tracks and rushed over to his brother. 

“Lie down and let’s look at it!” he ordered 
sharply. 

Harry was now lying doubled up on the 
ground. 

“Oh!” he screamed again. “I’m dying! 
Leave me alone ! ’ ’ 

“Don’t be a baby!” exclaimed Dick Rey- 
nolds. 

“Grab hold of him and straighten him out, 
fellows!” commanded Chet. “I’m going £o 
have a look at it. ’ ’ 

Despite Harry’s screams and struggles, Dick 
138 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 


Reynolds, Ken Davis, and George Ferguson 
flung themselves upon him and stretched him 
flat on the ground, holding him almost motion- 
less, in spite of his efforts. Chet hastily 
stripped down Harry’s stocking and disclosed 
the wound — a small purplish swelling — to view. 
As he did so, Sissy Smith pointed an excited 
finger, 

“ There he goes!” he cried. ‘ 6 That’s the 
snake that bit him ! ’ 9 

A long, glistening body was gliding swiftly 
through the underbrush. Chet shot a hasty 
glance at it. 

“Oh, that’s all right!” he declared in a re- 
lieved tone. “ It ’s nothing but a garter snake. ’ ’ 

Artie Thomas, who was fairly well up on the 
subject, had also seen the reptile. 

“It’s a copperhead!” he stated loudly. 

“Shut up!” exclaimed Chet. “The kid 
doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” he 
added to his brother. 

But Harry had heard and understood. He had 
been bitten by one of the most poisonous snakes 
in that section of the country! A great fear 
came into his heart, and for a moment every- 
thing swam before his eyes. He tried to 
139 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


scream, but he was too frightened to make a 
sound. Then suddenly, unexpectedly, the re- 
action came. The blood went into his veins 
with a rush; and for the first time in his life 
Harry knew what it was to feel really brave. 
He stopped struggling, and closed his eyes. 

“Do what you can,” he said. 

Chet had already drawn a knife from his 
pocket, opened it, and prepared to cut the wound 
open so as to make it bleed. 

“This is going to hurt!” he warned. 

As soon as he realized how serious the bite 
was, Dick Reynolds had taken off his Scout 
scarf and made a tourniquet just below the 
knee, to keep the poison from getting into the 
circulation. Chet carefully wiped the blade of 
his knife and then inserted it in the place twist- 
ing it slightly to enlarge the wound. Harry 
gave an involuntary groan of pain, then pressed 
his lips tightly together, and lay still once more. 
The blood began trickling from the cut in a 
rich red stream, but not rapidly enough to sat- 
isfy Chet. He stooped closer, applied his mouth 
to the cut, sucked at it a moment, and then spit 
out a mouthful of blood. Harry tried to raise 
himself and pull his leg away. 

140 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 


“Hold him still ! ’ ’ cried Chet. 

The effort to rise had made Harry feel a little 
faint. 

“Don’t do that!” he said weakly to his 
brother. “You’ll poison yourself. One of us 
is enough.” 

“Shut up, kid!” answered Chet roughly, but 
with a lump in his throat. Once more he 
sucked at the wound and spat out the fresh 
mouthful of blood and poison. 

“Now loosen the tourniquet a little,” he di- 
rected Dick Reynolds. “Tighten it right up 
again. ’ ’ 

Dick obeyed instructions and pulled out his 
watch. 

“Every fifteen minutes that you loosen it, 
isn’t it?” he inquired. 

“Yes,” answered Chet soberly. “How are 
you feeling?” he asked Harry. 

“My head feels sort of dizzy,” was the reply. 
“Maybe it’s only the heat.” 

“We ought to get him to a doctor,” declared 
Dick Reynolds. 

George Ferguson gazed over the expanse of 
fields, almost unbroken by a house or building 
of any kind. 


141 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Where is there a doctor, though ?” he asked. 
Chet rose to his feet. 

“We’ve got to find one,” he rejoined deter- 
minedly. “Some of you fellows get branches 
to make a stretcher from. Dick and I will 
carry him.” 

While the poles were being chopped, Chet 
twice more sucked blood from the wound. Then 
he took off his Scout coat, to use in making the 
stretcher. 

“Aren’t you going to bandage it up?” in- 
quired Artie Thomas. 

“No,” responded Chet shortly. “I’m going 
to let it keep on bleeding. That’s the best 
chance.” 

“But won’t dust or something get in it and 
make blood poisoning?” persisted Artie. Chet 
shot a fierce look at him. 

“Will you hold your mouth!” he exclaimed. 
Harry partly opened his eyes and then closed 
them again. 

“Feeling better now?” asked his brother. 

“A little worse, I think,” replied Harry 
faintly. “Can’t you get me to a doctor?” 

“We’re going to take you to one now,” as- 
sured Chet. “Don’t lose your head.” 

142 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 

“I won’t !” promised Harry. 

Soon the other Scouts brought the poles for 
the stretcher. Chet fixed his own coat and Dick 
Reynolds’ over them, and the two boys laid 
Harry on them. 

i ‘Where are you going to find a doctor?” 
questioned Artie Thomas. a We haven’t passed 
one in a long time.” 

“Yes, we did!” contradicted Ken Davis. “I 
saw a doctor’s sign on a house just a little be- 
fore we left the road.” 

“We’ll get him back there, then,” declared 
Chet. “We’ll take it at Scout’s pace. Can 
you stand a little jolting, Harry?” 

Harry nodded his head slightly, without 
opening his eyes. 

“Come ahead,” said Chet. 

In a short time, although it seemed hours 
to Harry, the road was reached again, and 
Ken Davis pointed to a small brown house 
nearby. 

“That’s it,” he said. 

‘ ‘ Hope to heavens he ’s in ! ” muttered Chet. 

But the doctor was out ; and the woman who 
answered the bell did not know when he would 
return. 


143 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“ Can’t you get hold of him somehow ?” asked 
Dick Reynolds. i ‘ This is important.” 

“ Wait a minute,” answered the woman. She 
disappeared down the hallway, leaving the door 
open behind her. In another minute the doc- 
tor’s wife herself came to the door. 

“Is it very necessary?” she inquired. “I 
don’t really know ” 

6 ‘ Snake bite, ’ ’ responded Chet shortly. “It’s 
serious.” 

“Can’t you get him on the telephone?” in- 
terrupted Ken Davis, whose father was a prom- 
inent business man. 

“I don’t know which of his cases the doctor 
is on,” stated his wife. 

“Call them all up,” proposed Ken. “Leave 
a message for him to come right back. Tell him 
what it ’s for. ’ ’ 

The doctor’s wife hesitated for a moment. 

“All right,” she agreed finally. “You can 
bring him in here,” she added over her shoul- 
der. 

Chet and Dick bore the stretcher into the 
doctor’s outer office and laid it gently on a 
lounge. 

“You’re all right now,” assured the former. 

144 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 


“The doctor will be here in a few minutes.” 
Harry opened his eyes. 

‘ 4 1 heard everything that was said, ’ ’ he whis- 
pered. “Don’t try to kid me.” 

“How are you feeling!” queried Dick Rey- 
nolds. 

Harry made no answer. 

“How are you feeling, old man!” asked Chet. 
Harry looked at him. 

“Please leave me alone,” he said. 

The other boys found seats in different chairs 
around the office and waited, scarcely glancing 
at one another. Finally the doctor’s wife 
came in. 

“I got the doctor on the telephone,” she an- 
nounced cheerfully. “He’s on his way back 
now.” 

“How soon will he be here!” asked Chet in 
a low voice. 

“Pretty soon,” was the rather indefinite 
reply. 

The minutes dragged slowly on. Every now 
and then Harry would shift his position slightly, 
or put his hand up to his forehead as if it 
pained him. Not once did he groan. 

i 6 He ’s got nerve ! ’ ’ whispered Dick Reynolds 
145 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


to Ken Davis, who was sitting next to him. “I 
couldn’t do that.” 

At length a quick step sounded in the hall- 
way and the doctor — a brisk, alert little man — 
stepped into the office. 

“What’s the trouble ?” he asked, glancing 
sharply at Harry. 

“Snake bite,” answered Chet. “We think it 
was a copperhead.” 

“How long ago was it?” 

“About an hour now.” 

“Has anything been done for it?” came the 
next question. 

“We’ve kept a tourniquet on his leg, and I 
sucked the poison out — as much as I could.” 

Doctors are not easily astonished, but this 
one opened his eyes wide. 

“You sucked the poison out?” he repeated. 

“He’s my brother,” explained Chet. 

The doctor turned to Harry, examined the 
still bleeding wound, and felt his pulse. Then 
he asked: 

“How do you feel?” 

“I feel better now,” answered Harry. “My 
head hurt a good deal at first, ’ ’ The doctor re- 
leased his wrist. 


146 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 


“You’re all right,” he said. “If the poison 
were going to take effect, you’d have begun to 
feel it by this time.” 

The color came back to Harry’s cheeks. 

“Gee, I’m glad!” he murmured. 

“We all are,” Dick Reynolds assured him. 
Then Chet turned to the doctor. 

‘ ‘ Had we better take him right back home ? ’ ’ 
he inquired. “We’ve come from Norfolk.” 

“I don’t want to go back home,” protested 
Harry. “I’m all right.” The doctor consid- 
ered. 

“I don’t believe it is really necessary,” he 
declared at length. “Just keep him quiet and 
off his feet for the rest of the day, and there’s 
nothing to worry over. I’ll dress the leg be- 
fore you go.” 

“Can you tell us how to get to Portland?” 
asked Ken Davis. “We were trying a short 
cut across the fields when this happened.” 

“You keep on this road until you come to 
the Old Post Road, ’ ’ the doctor told him. 1 1 Then 
turn to the right along that. It’s about five 
miles altogether. Did you mean to walk it?” 

“Yes, sir,” returned Chet. “But I don’t see 
just how we can do it now.” 

147 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“We can take Harry along in the stretcher,’ ’ 
proposed Dick Reynolds. “ We’ll all take turns 
carrying him.” 

“I don’t want to be carried like a baby,” ob- 
jected Harry. “I want to walk.” 

“You won’t do any more walking today,” 
declared the doctor firmly. “You might bring 
on inflammation.” 

“Will it be safe by tomorrow ?” asked the 
patient. 

“I guess so,” returned the doctor, with pro- 
fessional caution. 

Twenty minutes later, the Bucktail Patrol 
was once more on its way, with Harry lying at 
his ease in the stretcher. 

“You’re a regular ton of bricks!” grunted 
Dick Reynolds, who, with Chet, had taken the 
first turn at carrying the burden. “I never 
knew you weighed so much!” 

1 1 This is dandy ! ’ ’ returned Harry, who, now 
that the worry of the snake bite was fully off 
his mind, had returned to his usual good 
spirits. “I could keep this up for a 
week ! ’ ’ 

“Well, you needn’t think you’re going to,” 
returned Chet. “This is hard work! I could 
148 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 


eat a house right now,” he added. That gave 
Artie Thomas an idea. 

1 1 Say ! ” he exclaimed. a We haven ’t had any 
lunch yet!” 

“That’s so!” chimed in Dick Reynolds. “We 
never thought of it. It must be nearly three 
o’clock.” 

‘ ‘Let’s stop and get some,” proposed Chet. 
“We ’ve got plenty of time.” 

When lunch had been satisfactorily disposed 
of, the hoys resumed their hike. Soon they 
reached the Old Post Road, and turned along 
it to the right. As they went on, the woods and 
fields gradually gave way to farm houses, and 
then to residences, some distance apart. An 
abrupt turn in the road brought them in full 
view of the river which ran past Norfolk, Port- 
land, Riverview, and several other towns of 
varying sizes until, about thirty or forty 
miles away, it emptied into the sea. On a 
point of land which jutted some little distance 
out into the water, was a very large red brick 
building. 

“Wonder what that is?” ventured Sissy 
Smith, whose inquisitiveness was only equaled 
by his appetite. 


149 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“It’s — it’s — a pickle factory!” stated Artie 
Thomas, as one speaking with authority. 

“Pickle factory nothing!” retorted George 
Ferguson, in great contempt. “Don’t you 
know it’s where they make donkey engines for 
horse cars?” 

For some time, there was no great change in 
the general character of the road. Then, all at 
once, a cluster of houses appeared ahead of 
them. 

“Guess this must be Portland,” declared 
Dick Reynolds. “I hope it is.” 

As they came almost up to the clump of 
houses, they were surprised to find a band of 
boys in Scout uniform drawn up across the road 
in their path. They stopped in some uncer- 
tainty, but a boy wearing a Patrol Leader’s 
badge stepped forward from the line and sa- 
luted. 

“Are you fellows from Norfolk?” he asked, 
staring at the stretcher in some surprise. 

“We are,” responded Dick. “Who are you 
fellows?” 

“ We ’re from Portland. They telegraphed us 
that you were on your way, so we came out 
to meet you.” 


150 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 

“How near are we to Portland ?” inquired 
Chet. 

“You’re there already,” was the reply. 
“That was the Portland Motorcar Company’s 
factory you passed a little ways back.” 

“How did you know which road we were 
coming?” questioned the practical Ken 
Davis. 

“There are only two or three roads you 
could have come by, and one of our patrols has 
gone out along each. We just happened to be 
the lucky ones.” 

“I suppose you’re going to help us in the 
search, then?” ventured Chet. 

“Sure we are,” returned the other. “What 
can we do for you first?” 

“The first thing is a good camping place,” 
returned Dick Reynolds. 

“Come along with me and I’ll show you a 
dandy place,” declared the Portland Scout. 
“How are you off for feed?” 

“We could stand a little more!” declared 
Sissy Smith. “We haven’t got much of any- 
thing left now except bacon and crackers and 
dog biscuit.” 

“We’ll fix you up all right,” the other as- 
151 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


sured him. “We’ll be around to your camp 
early tomorrow morning, and we’ll bring a lot 
of truck with us. I’ll bring some around this 
evening, if you want.” 

‘ ‘ I guess we can manage all right, ’ ’ answered 
Chet. “Thanks just as much, though.” 

After a fairly good dinner and a nice lazy 
evening around the camp fire, Harry Richards, 
who had apparently almost entirely forgotten 
both the snake episode and his sore leg, curled 
himself up in his blanket, along with the other 
members of the Patrol, and went peacefully 
asleep. However, his unconscious mind was 
less easily quieted. 

He dreamed that he was hunting boa con- 
strictors in an African jungle and had already 
killed seven, by the simple process of reaching 
down their throats to their tails and turning 
them inside out. He had just spied an eighth 
lying basking unconsciously in the tropical sun, 
and was stealthily creeping up on it, when the 
other seven unexpectedly turned themselves 
right side out again and began tapping him in 
the face with the cold, moist ends of their tails. 
He woke up with a start, but the dream had 
been so vivid that he could still feel the tapping 
152 


THE HIKE TO PORTLAND 


on his cheeks. Then full consciousness returned 
to him and he opened his eyes to the gray light 
of early morning to find that it was raining. 


CHAPTER X 


PORTLAND AND NORFOLK SCOUTS 

H ARRY sat up and looked around him. 
Evidently it had been raining for 
some time, as the grass and under- 
brush were thoroughly soaked and there were 
little puddles on the ground. One of these was 
almost directly under Chet’s head, and Harry 
reached over and poked him sharply in the 
ribs. 

“Get up, if you don’t want to be drowned!” 
he exclaimed. 

Chet stirred uneasily and opened his eyes. 
Then he sat up with a start. 

“It’s raining, fellows!” he announced. 

One by one the Scouts came to life and got 
up, rescuing their blankets from the mud as 
they did so. 

“This is great!” declared Dick Reynolds. 
“Fine weather for mud turtles,” added 
George Ferguson. 


154 


PORTLAND AND NORFOLK SCOUTS 


“Now what are we going to do?” inquired 
Artie Thomas. 

“Put on your ponchos, everybody,” in- 
structed Dick. “Then we’ll light a fire and 
cook breakfast.” 

But everything had been so thoroughly 
soaked that the latter suggestion could not be 
carried out. 

“Never mind,” said Chet. “We haven’t got 
anything much except crackers and a piece of 
cheese anyway. We can eat those without 
cooking.” 

“Hope those Portland fellows bring along a 
red-hot stove and a couple of cart loads of pota- 
toes when they come,” observed Sissy Smith. 

“I suppose we’ll have to wait until they show 
up anyway,” declared Chet. “If we don’t 
drown first, that is.” 

In about half an hour seven of the Portland 
Scouts with their Patrol Leader, Chase Rob- 
erts, appeared upon the scene. 

“Is it wet up here?” inquired the latter. 

“Oh no, not at all!” rejoined Dick sarcas- 
tically. “We were just thinking of building 
an ark. That’s how dry it is.” 

“Come along with me and I’ll take you to 
155 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


the cellar of Fat Wiggins’ house,” invited the 
other. “Got anything to eat?” 

“We’ve got one fair-sized chunk of bacon, 
half a can of cocoa, some butter and sugar, and 
a piece of cheese,” detailed Ghet. “We had a 
couple of boxes of crackers and some tough dog 
biscuit, but we’ve eaten them.” 

“You’ll find a good layout in the cellar,” an- 
nounced Chase. “Unless you’d rather stay 
here,” he added thoughtfully. 

“Well, of course we really would, but we’ll 
come along just to be obliging,” stated 
Dick. 

“All right, then,” concluded Chase. “Come 
ahead. ’ ’ 

After they were snugly quartered in the dark, 
but dry cellar of an outlying residence, Chase 
Roberts, who was evidently a man of action, 
went up to Chet Richards. 

“I talked with all the other patrol leaders 
here in town last evening,” he stated. “We’ve 
arranged for each Patrol, counting in you fel- 
lows, to do a little detective work in different 
parts of the city. Then we’ll meet here this 
evening and talk things over. How does that 
strike you?” 


156 


PORTLAND AND NORFOLK SCOUTS 


“It's all right; only none of you fellows know 
Ray Clark by sight/ ’ replied Chet. 

“We aren’t going to try to spot the fellow 
himself. Our idea was to make inquiries at all 
the stores and office buildings and so forth. 
Then if we get any good clues you fellows can 
follow them up tomorrow.” 

“Suppose he goes out of town?” suggested 
Dick Reynolds. 

“We can’t help it if he does. We’ll have to 
take a chance on it. ’ ’ 

“I don’t believe he’d go away so soon,” de- 
clared Dick. “If he really came here, he’d 
probably try to get a job somewhere so as to 
save up enough money to go out West. I don’t 
believe he’ll leave unless he can’t find a job 
after all.” 

“He ought to be able to get a job if he wants 
to hard enough,” declared Chase. “They’re 
taking on men all the time down at the factory, 
since this strike commenced.” 

“What strike is that?” inquired Sissy Smith. 

4 4 Oh, the men in one of the departments went 
on strike about a month ago,” responded Chase. 
4 4 They want more pay, or shorter hours, or 
something, but the Company won’t give it to 
157 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


them. Lately, they’ve been talking of calling a 
general strike of everybody in the factory, and 
making it hot for any strikebreakers that the 
Company tries to get in their places ; but I don’t 
really believe they’ll do it.” 

“ Let’s go down there and look first,” sug- 
gested Dick Reynolds. “That’s just the sort 
of job Ray Clark would be looking for.” 

“We’d meant to go down there ourselves and 
make inquiries,” remarked Chase. “We were 
going to give you the part up around Silver 
Lake. They’re building a dam across it to cut 
the lake into two parts for the water supply. 
The foreman’s grouchy as the dickens, and he 
wouldn’t tell anybody anything, unless you paid 
him for it. We thought that you fellows would 
be more apt to spot Ray Whaddeyacallhim, if 
he was there. You can hang around until they 
start to go home at five o’clock. Still, if you’d 
rather ” 

“No, that’s the best thing,” responded Chet. 
“You fellows take the factory, and we’ll go 
up to Silver Lake. I hope it’s nice and 
dry.” 

“We’ll all get wet anyhow, a day like this,” 
declared Chase. “Only look out that you don’t 
158 


PORTLAND AND NORFOLK SCOUTS 


get into the marsh up there. You might fall 
through.” 

“Who cares for a little mud?” observed 
Dick. “Are there many men working up 
there?” 

“About a hundred, I guess — mostly labor- 
ers. There are some engineers too, and a couple 
of foremen, or something.” 

“We’ll try it,” repeated Chet. “I think 
that’s the best scheme.” 

Partially protected by their ponchos, the 
eight boys of the Bucktail Patrol set out, five 
minutes later, for Silver Lake. Chase Roberts 
had told them how to get there, and about half 
an hour’s walk in the pouring rain brought 
them to the crest of a hill, at the foot of which 
lay the Lake. 

Under the gray sky and the rain, it looked a 
good deal more like lead than silver ; but in the 
center of it was the dam as large as life “under 
process of construction.” The waters of the 
lake were being held back by what is technically 
known as a “coffer-dam,” and the dam itself — 
a massive concrete affair — was being built in- 
side it. 

Little groups of workmen, who looked like 
159 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


flies from the distance at which the boys first 
caught sight of them, were scattered at one 
point or another of the work and moving about 
with what, to the untrained eye, was mere aim- 
less energy. The largest group was collected 
around some piece of machinery, which the 
Scouts learned later was a concrete mixer, and 
in this group were some smaller flies — probably 
boys. 

‘ 4 Wonder if Ray’s down in there?” remarked 
Artie Thomas. 

* ‘ Maybe the foreman would let us go down 
and look, if we were real polite to him,” sug- 
gested Sissy Smith. 

4 ‘ Come ahead, then,” proposed Dick Rey- 
nolds. “We might as well try.” 

He set the example by starting off down the 
long slope of the hill ; and the rest followed. 

The coffer-dam — a sort of palisade which 
held back the water and permitted the founda- 
tions of the dam to be laid in comparative dry- 
ness — extended only partly into the lake and 
on the shore end was reached by a sort of 
trestle work, from which ladders led to the 
lower level where the men and boys were 
working. 


160 


PORTLAND AND NORFOLK SCOUTS 


The Scouts were clambering along this, pre- 
liminary to asking somebody’s permission to 
visit the work itself, when a gruff voice sud- 
denly bellowed: 

“Hey, you kids! Get off of there or I’ll 
throw you into the lake!” 

Startled a little at the suddenness of the ex- 
clamation, Sissy Smith lost his footing, and the 
next instant there was a splash, some ten or 
twelve feet below. The other Scouts hastily 
made their way back to land. 

“We’ve got to save Sissy!” exclaimed Artie 
Thomas. 

“Oh, he’s all right,” declared Dick Reynolds. 
“He can swim. It isn’t deep anyway.” 

Sure enough, Sissy, dripping wet and some- 
what ruffled as to dignity, soon joined them. 

“Gee, that foreman is a fierce old brute!” he 
declared with feeling. 

“Guess we’ll hang around until the men go 
home,” observed Chet wisely. “We’ll search 
the country around here, just to give us some- 
thing to do.” 

For the rest of the morning and' most of the 
afternoon, the Scouts made a thorough search 
of the country in the vicinity of Silver Lake, 
161 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


inquiring at all the houses, and looking into 
every empty building from a dog kennel to a 
disused ice-house. Shortly before five, they re- 
traced their steps to the dam, reaching it just 
before the workers commenced to leave for 
home. 

Standing in a little group near the trestle, 
but keeping a careful eye for any new demon- 
strations on the part of the grouchy foreman, 
the boys watched intently as one after another 
of the workers clambered down the frail look- 
ing ladders and plodded homewards. There 
were several boys, but none of them even re- 
motely resembled Ray Clark. 

“Nothing doing, I guess,’ ’ announced Chet, 
in a dispirited tone. 

Hungry and chilled from their long search in 
the rain, the Scouts headed at a run for their 
encampment in Fat Wiggins’ cellar. When 
they finally reached it, an appetizing odor of 
cooking assailed their nostrils. 

“Gee, I could eat a house!” stated Sissy 
Smith ravenously. 

Several Portland Boy Scouts met them just 
outside the cellar door. 

“Come on up in the kitchen and get dry,” 
162 


PORTLAND AND NORFOLK SCOUTS 


invited one of them — no less a personage than 
Fat Wiggins himself. “We’re cooking some 
dinner on the stove. Are you hungry?” 

“Are we!” exclaimed Dick Reynolds, patting 
himself expressively in the region of the belt. 
“Oh, no! Not at all!” 

Early in the evening, Chase Roberts, accom- 
panied by three boys whom he introduced as 
the other Patrol Leaders of the town, came to 
talk over the results of the day’s scouting for 
clues. 

“Our fellows have been all over the place,” 
he informed Chet. “I brought these fellows up 
so that you could hear their reports and decide 
what to do. ’ ’ 

“How about your own Patrol?” inquired 
Chet. “I think the factory is the best chance 
anyway. ’ ’ 

“We went out there and started to ask ques- 
tions, ’ ’ stated Chase. ‘ 4 But we got chased. ’ ’ 

“Couldn’t you find out anything at all?” 

1 1 Only that a big strike has broken out. The 
only people working there now are in the offices. 
We nosed around among the strikers a little, 
and we heard that the company is going to try 
to bring some strikebreakers down by train to- 
163 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


morrow morning some time. There may be 
trouble if they do ! ’ 9 

Two of the other patrol leaders had nothing 
worth mentioning to report, but the third — a 
small, wiry fellow with black hair and a large 
mouth — really had a clue. 

“We went to all the stores in the business 
section to see if any new fellows were working 
at them,” he commenced. “Minnerly’s drug 
store, on Grant Street, had a red-headed fellow 
come in to ask them for a job at the soda foun- 
tain ; but they turned him down. The Portland 
Department Store took on a new boy yesterday, 
but they weren’t sure what color his hair was. 
Perkins, the florist, had a new fellow to help in 
the green-houses, and Tompkins & Strong, the 
tailors, have a red-haired fellow to deliver 
clothes for them. The Gas Company gave a 
fellow with freckles a job as Inspector yester- 
day ; and a feed store on Park Place has some- 
body helping their drivers out. There were 
a few others who had taken on men, but they 
were all too old.” 

Chet looked thoughtful. 

“One of those might be Ray Clark,” he ob- 
served. “We’ll try them, anyhow.” 

164 


PORTLAND AND NORFOLK SCOUTS 


“That isn’t all,” continued the other. “We 
went down to the railroad station, and the agent 
there told us that a fellow with red hair and 
freckles and with a bundle in his hand got off 
the train a couple of days ago and asked one 
of the baggage men whether there was any 
chance of his getting a job anywhere.” 

“That sounds like Ray, all right. What did 
the man tell him?” 

“He advised him to try and get a job down 
at the factory,” was the response. 

“That’s the place for us to go, all right,” 
declared Dick Reynolds. “We’ll take a look 
down there tomorrow morning. What will you 
fellows be doing?” 

“Oh, we’ll hunt around at the farm houses 
and so forth and see if we can find out anything 
about a fellow boarding at any of them,” an- 
swered Chase. “He must be sleeping some- 
where, you know.” 

‘ * Then we ’ll see you fellows again tomorrow 
evening,” remarked Chet. “I think our crowd 
had better be getting off to bed. We’re tired 
and the cellar floor’s kind of hard to sleep on 
anyway. ’ ’ 

“You can sleep up here in the kitchen, if you 
165 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


want,” offered Fat Wiggins. 6 ‘Unless you’re 
afraid of mice, that is. There are some in the 
house and there’s a full-size mouse-hole right 
under the kitchen sink. I’ll put the cat in, if 
you want. She’s a little wild, but she’s a good 
mouser.” 

“I guess we’d rather take a chance on the 
mice,” observed Chet. 

“Well, good-night, fellows,” said Chase, 
making for the door. “Hope you have better 
luck down at the factory than we did.” 

The kitchen floor proved more comfortable 
than the concrete of the cellar, and the Scouts 
did not awaken until the Wiggins’ cook came 
down stairs and set about getting breakfast 
ready. When the cereal — oatmeal — was put on 
the stove she added several extra portions and, 
when it was finally cooked, gave each of the 
Scouts a good-sized helping. With this, and a 
cup of rather weak coffee, tucked carefully away 
under their belts, the boys set off for their visit 
to the factory of the Portland Motorcar Com- 
pany. 

The factory was located on Kingston Point 
— a piece of land which jutted out into the river 
considerably beyond the tracks of the railroad, 
166 


PORTLAND AND NORFOLK SCOUTS 


which in other places ran close along the shore. 
The building itself was situated at the extreme 
northerly end of the Point and one side was 
only a few feet away from the river. The rail- 
road — a two-track affair, which connected two 
important terminals a hundred miles or so 
apart, and took in Portland, Norfolk, River- 
view, Rosebank, and a few other inconsiderable 
places on its way — passed about a quarter of a 
mile to the shore side of the factory. A private 
freight siding, or spur, served to provide the 
factory with more convenient 4 4 transportation 
facilities. ’ ’ 

As the Scouts drew near, they saw that a 
large body of men were walking along it, carry- 
ing something which at that distance looked as 
much like railroad ties as anything else. 

6 1 Guess those must be the strikers, ’ ’ hazarded 
Ken Davis. 

“Wonder what they’re going to do?” ven- 
tured the inquisitive Sissy. 

“Let’s watch them and find out,” proposed 
George Ferguson. “ We ’ve got plenty of time. ’ ’ 

The men proceeded somewhat slowly along 
the branch line until they had come to the place 
where it joined on to the main road. Having 
167 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


reached this, they went up the tracks for a short 
distance and then stopped, dropping the bur- 
dens they had been carrying. 

“ What are they up to now?” asked Chet. 

“Let’s go over and see!” exclaimed Dick 
Reynolds. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 
CTING- upon the suggestion, the boys 



set out at a run for the scene of the 


^ preparations. The group of men had 
now all gathered more closely together, and 
seemed to be engaged in some sort of work on 
the railroad track itself. The railroad ties, if 
they were such, were lying in small heaps on 
the ground. 

6 ‘We’d better be careful/ ’ cautioned Chet. 
‘ 1 The strikers might not like it if we came nos- 
ing around.’ ’ 

1 1 Let’s creep up that little hill over there,” 
suggested Dick Reynolds. “We can get a 
dandy view of them, and they won’t spot us at 
all — if we’re careful.” 

The hill in question was a slight rocky pro- 
tuberance and it had been cut through when 
the railroad was built, leaving a section of it 
on each side of the tracks. 


169 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Come ahead !” cried Artie Thomas. 

Stooping low and taking advantage of every 
possible shelter in the shape of bushes, trees, 
or rocks, the Scouts made their way across the 
intervening strip of land until they had reached 
a place where the hill itself hid them from the 
possible view of the strikers. 

“Now up to the top of it, fellows !” whispered 
Dick. “Be careful not to show up against the 
sky line.” 

Still crouching low, the Scouts made their 
way quickly up the rocky side of the hill. Ar- 
riving at the top, where the railroad cut sliced 
the little ridge of granite off abruptly, they 
threw themselves flat on their faces and, under 
cover of a few straggly bushes and ferns, 
wriggled cautiously to the edge, from which 
they could peer over onto the tracks below 
without much danger of being observed them- 
selves. 

The group of strikers was congregated at 
a point some thirty or forty feet along the 
track, but the sound of their voices could be 
plainly heard, and now and then a word clearly 
distinguished. They were a determined-look- 
ing, rather roughly dressed set of men, and 
170 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 

they seemed very energetic over some- 
thing. 

< ‘ What in creation are they doing?” asked 
Dick in a low voice. 

The railroad ties — for that is what they 
proved to be — had been dropped on the ground 
alongside the railroad, and the men were en- 
gaged in piling them on one of the tracks them- 
selves. 

“They’re going to try to wreck a train!” 
gasped Sissy. 

“Come on, fellows!” ordered Dick, crawling 
backwards away from the edge. “We’ve got 
to go and warn the railroad people!” 

“Where’s the nearest station?” asked Sissy. 

“Portland, of course. But we’ve got to 
hurry ! ’ ’ 

Protected by the hill from the sight of the 
strikers, the boys broke into a headlong run 
down it, dashed across the fields to where a 
curve in the track would hide them from the 
would-be train-wreckers, and at length, tired 
and breathless, reached the track itself. 

“Now for it!” panted Dick. “Run for all 
you’re worth!” 

Just as they had set out at full speed along 
171 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


the gravel road-bed and ties, the shrill whistle 
of an approaching train was borne to their ears. 

6 4 We ’re too late ! ’ 9 cried Dick. Chet Richards 
turned in his tracks. 

“ Let’s hurry back, fellows,” he said. “We 
may be able to do something.” 

Dick Reynolds was the best runner of the 
patrol and was slightly in advance as they 
came around the turn and into full view of the 
strikers. 

“It’s all right, fellows!” he shouted back 
over his shoulder. “There isn’t going to be any 
wreck!” 

As the other boys rounded the bend in the 
tracks, they saw that one of the strikers was 
standing a considerable distance in front of the 
obstruction on the tracks, holding a red flag in 
his hand. 

“They’re just going to flag the train and 
make it stop,” declared Chet. “Wonder what 
the idea is.” 

As he spoke, the train itself came hu mmi ng 
up from behind, passed them in a swirl of dust, 
and went on at full speed towards the pile of 
ties. The striker waved his red flag violently 
and the train began to slow down. When it was 
172 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 


almost abreast of the main body of the strikers, 
it stopped entirely, and the strikers immedi- 
ately crowded aronnd the forward end. 

“ Let’s go back on the hill and see what hap- 
pens/ * proposed Chet. “We don’t want to get 
mixed up in a real fight, if there’s going to be 
one. We couldn’t do anything, anyway.” 

They left the tracks and took to the fields 
again. This time, they did not try to hide, and 
had soon regained their former posts of obser- 
vation. The strikers were still massed about 
the forward part of the train, and as the boys 
watched, six or seven of them mounted the steps 
at the front end of the foremost car and disap- 
peared within. The remaining body of men 
went stragglingly to the rear, and waited. 

“Maybe they’re going to search the train to 
see if there are any strike-breakers on board,” 
suggested Ken Davis. 

“I’ll bet that’s just what it is!” declared 
Chet. ‘ ‘ Wonder if they ’ll find any. ’ ’ 

After a short time, the deputation which had. 
gone in the front end of the train emerged upon 
the rear platform, and one of them spoke a few 
words. The strikers cheered, and then went in 
a body to where the ties were piled on the tracks 
173 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


and removed them. With three short blasts 
from its whistle and the ringing of its bell, the 
train proceeded. 

“Nothing doing !” announced Sissy Smith, in 
a disappointed tone. 

“Let’s go on to the factory now!” suggested 
Dick Reynolds, impatiently. 

“I don’t believe they’d tell us anything, with 
all this fuss going on,” objected Ken Davis. 

“Besides, it’s the Fourth of July,” exclaimed 
Sissy Smith suddenly. “No one would be work- 
ing there anyway.” 

“That’s so!” said Chet. 

“What shall we do, fellows?” asked Ken 
Davis. 

“Why not go and make inquiries at some of 
the houses, just as the Portland fellows are 
doing,” suggested Clam Jamieson. “We might 
find out where Ray was sleeping.” 

“I move we go back to town and get a regu- 
lar lunch,” proposed Sissy. “I’m sick of liv- 
ing off bacon and dog biscuit and that sort of 
thing.” 

“We’ll do that first and hunt around at the 
houses afterwards,” stated Chet. “I wouldn’t 
mind a good square meal myself.” 

174 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 


The eight boys retraced their steps, rather 
more slowly than they had come, and one o’clock 
found them all ranged up in front of the lunch 
counter at a moderate priced restaurant. Most 
of them took hash, baked beans, hot muffins, 
cocoa, and ice cream. Clam Jamieson, who was 
particular about his food, had scrambled eggs 
and toast. Sissy Smith took two pieces of apple 
pie, besides the ice cream. 

“You’ll turn into a walking lunch counter 
some day, if you aren’t careful,” warned Ken 
Davis. “If I ate that much, I’d be as big as 
Fat Wiggin.” 

“I could eat twice as much, if I wanted to,” 
declared Sissy with some pride. 

“They wouldn’t keep you at home, if you 
did,” observed Artie Thomas. “It would cost 
too much.” 

“Come on and let’s get started!” broke in 
the energetic Dick Reynolds. “We’ve got 
something better to do than sit here talking 
about food.” 

Just as the boys left the restaurant, a fire 
engine went dashing past the next corner. 

“Come ahead, fellows!” shouted Dick. 
“There’s a job for us!” 

175 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Who’s running this Patrol?” demanded 
Chet Richards. 

Dick pulled up short. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. 

“Just what I say.” 

“What’s the use in being Patrol Leader if 
you’re so slow? The fire would be all out and 
the place built up again by the time we got 
there, if we waited for you!” 

“Who said we were going there?” 

Dick was taken aback. 

“Not going ! ” he exclaimed. ‘ ‘ What are you 
soared of? You’re as bad as — as ” 

“Shut up!” Chet warned him. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything about 
Harry,” declared Dick. 

“You aren’t going to say anything about 
what this Patrol does either — when I’m 
around,” countered Chet. 

“Why aren’t we going to the fire?” ques- 
tioned Sissy Smith, eagerly anticipating the 
excitement. 

“Because our iob now is to look for Ray 
Clark.” 

“That can wait,” retorted Dick. “This is 
more important.” 


176 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 

“That’s what I say!” exclaimed several 
voices. 

Chet gave in. 

“All right; come ahead,” he said. 

The Scouts rushed up to the street corner, 
hoping that the fire engine had not yet passed 
out of sight. It had not. It was standing in 
the street only a short distance away with a 
crowd collected around it, while a column of 
grayish-black smoke rose from a nearby 
building. 

4 4 Hurry up ! ” cried Dick. 

The boys dashed to the scene of the fire. It 
proved to be a large barn, standing a short dis- 
tance back from the road. A great number of 
people were standing around it, keeping a re- 
spectful distance away, but apparently engaged 
merely in the useful occupation of watching it 
burn. The firemen had stretched two lines of 
hose from the nearest hydrant and were play- 
ing them both upon the end of the barn which 
was burning, instead of attempting to save the 
remainder of the building by keeping it wet. 

4 4 That’s a fool way to do!” observed Ken 
Davis contemptuously. 44 A three-year-old kid 
knows better than that!” 

177 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Wonder if there are any horses in it!” ven- 
tured Sissy. 

Suddenly there was a commotion in the 
crowd. A black figure appeared at the opening 
to the hay loft and glanced at the ground be- 
low. Almost at the same moment, another fig- 
ure rushed upon it, seized it from behind, and 
threw it to the floor. Then commenced a lively 
struggle, the purpose of which was not appar- 
ent. 

“What the dickens !” exclaimed Ken. 

The crowd, though evidently much interested 
in the struggle, continued to remain mere spec- 
tators, and the flames, which were beyond the 
control of the firemen, seemed to be endanger- 
ing the lives of both contestants. 

“Come on and let’s save them!” cried Dick 
Reynolds, darting forward. The other Scouts 
followed his lead. Harry Richards hesitated a 
moment, and then joined the rest. 

But now a murmur came from the crowd — 
particularly a small section of it which was 
gathered around a mysterious-looking arrange- 
ment which resembled a photographer’s cam- 
era, and in which a man was engaged in turn- 
ing a crank. 


178 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 


“Hey, you fool kids, get out of there !” 
shouted a thick-necked, red-faced man who was 
standing near the machine. 

But the Scouts were so intent upon their res- 
cue work that they did not hear him. Only 
Harry Richards, who was a little behind the 
group, caught the words and stopped in some 
perplexity. As he did so, one of the firemen 
turned the hose away from the building and 
directed it full upon the boys. The force of the 
water knocked them spluttering and gasping to 
the ground. Then the second fireman played 
a stream upon them, and between the two, the 
Scouts were thoroughly soaked. 

Half drowned and utterly bewildered, they 
managed somehow to get upon their feet again. 
Harry, who had thus far escaped the general 
deluge, now saw that the two men who had been 
struggling in the barn had stopped and were 
gazing at the scene below, laughing heart- 
ily. The red-faced man rushed out from the 
group and grabbed the nearest boy — it hap- 
pened to be Dick Reynolds — by the nape of the 
neck. 

‘ 4 Get out of here, all of you ! ’ ’ he roared. 

Another man who had been standing by the 

179 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


machine came forth with a long, businesslike- 
looking whip in his hand. 

“Clear out, or I’ll tan the hides off you!” he 
warned. 

Led by Sissy Smith and Artie Thomas, the 
Scouts, with the exception of Dick Reynolds, 
beat a hasty retreat, amid the laughter and 
hoots of the crowd. Dick was still a prisoner 
in the red-faced man’s grasp. 

“What was all that about f” asked Ken 
Davis, as they finally reached a place of safety. 
“We were only doing a good turn.” 

“Nobody else seemed to know it, though,” 
commented Artie. 

“We’ll have to go back and rescue Dick,” 
announced Chet, his wits suddenly returning to 
him. 

‘ 6 Gee ! I ’m not going ! ’ ’ declared Sissy, who 
only loved excitement when it did not affect him 
personally. 

“We’ve got to go,” stated Ken. “We can’t 
leave him like that.” 

As he spoke, however, Dick Reynolds him- 
self, limping a little, and not in a very good 
temper shot out onto the street as though some- 
thing was after him. 


180 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 


“Here we are!” called out George Ferguson. 

Dick came up to them, rather reluctantly as 
it seemed. His face was almost as red as his 
captor’s had been. 

“Did you catch it?” inquired Sissy, who knew 
the signs. 

“A little,” confessed Dick shamefacedly. 
“What did you fellows run away and leave me 
for?” 

“We didn’t stop to think,” declared Artie. 
“We just ran.” 

“We couldn’t have done anything anyway,” 
supplemented George. 

“What was it all about?” queried Ken Davis. 

“Why, they were taking moving pictures,” 
explained Dick. “And we got in the way and 
spoiled things. Now they’ll have to take them 
all over again, and set fire to some other barn. 
That’s all.” 

‘ ‘ Seems to me they got the worst of it, even if 
they did turn the hose on us,” declared Artie. 

“You wouldn’t think so if you were in my 
place,” stated Dick, with considerable feeling. 

6 6 Served you right ! ’ ’ commented Chet. Dick 
wheeled towards him. 

“What’s that?” he exclaimed. 

181 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“I said it served you right,” repeated Chet. 
“ Maybe you won’t try to butt in and run this 
Patrol so much now!” 

“If I couldn’t run it any better than you do 
I’d give up!” declared Dick, who was not feel- 
ing in a very happy mood. 

“That’s all right. You just mind your own 
business after this!” returned Chet, who could 
be angry when properly aroused. 

“You’d better not tell me to mind my own 
business!” exclaimed Dick. “You old stick-in- 
the-mud!” 

Chet looked at him for a moment. 

“All right, Dick Reynolds ! ” he said. ‘ ‘ Either 
you or I are going to get out of this Troop. I’ve 
taken too much sass from you already.” 

“Oh, cut it out, fellows!” advised Ken. Dick 
paid no attention to him. 

“If anybody gets out of this Troop it isn’t 
going to be me!” he announced decidedly. 

< ‘ Y ery well, then, ’ ’ continued Chet. 4 ‘ I will ! ’ ’ 

“Cut it out, fellows,” said Ken a second time. 
“Wait until we get back to Norfolk before any- 
body talks about quitting the Troop.” Chet 
thought a moment. 

“That’s right,” he finally assented. “We’ve 
182 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 


got to find Ray Clark first.” He held out his 
hand to Dick. 4 4 Shake, and let’s forget it,” he 
offered. 

But Dick turned his back upon him. 

4 4 No, I won ’t shake ! ” he retorted. 4 4 1 ’ll stick 
with the troop until we get back ; and then one 
of us has got to get out.” 

“ You ’re right there!” Chet agreed. 

4 4 Say, we ’ve got to do something to get dry ! ’ ’ 
announced Clam Jamieson, who being rather 
thin was beginning to shiver. 44 I feel like a 
drowned kitten!” 

4 4 Let’s go back to Fat Wiggins’ and dry off 
in the kitchen,” proposed Ken Davis. 

4 4 Come ahead,” agreed Chet. 

With Dick Reynolds following a few paces 
behind, the saturated Scouts made their way 
along the streets to the Wiggins residence. 
When they were about half a block away, Chase 
Roberts suddenly appeared in front of them. 

44 I’ve got some news for you fellows!” he 
announced. 4 4 Is the fellow you’re hunting for 
about my size and with red hair and freckles ? ’ ’ 

4 4 He’s a little taller than you, I guess,” re- 
plied Chet. 4 4 But he has the red hair and 
freckles all right.” 


183 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Then I think I’ve spotted him for you,” con- 
tinued Chase. ‘ 4 Our Patrol went around to lots 
of the different farm houses, and at one of them 
— Thompson’s — the farmer’s wife told us that 
she ’d seen a boy just like that snooping around 
the yard early one morning. She called out to 
him, and he ran off; but that same evening, 
somewhere around six o’clock, she thinks she 
saw him again.” 

“Probably sleeping in the barn or some- 
thing,” hazarded Chet. “What did the farmer 
say about it?” 

“He’s a grouchy old dub,” observed Chase 
disrespectfully. “Told me he didn’t know any- 
thing about a red-headed boy, and cared less. 
Said there wasn’t any place on the farm where 
a red-headed boy would have a chance to sleep 
except the barn — and that he kept that locked 
and had a fierce bull in it. He ended up by tell- 
ing me to mind my own business.” 

“He must be a real nice man,” said Chet 
reflectively. “Was his wife dead sure she saw 
Ray?” 

“She saw some fellow all right, but if there’s 
no place to sleep except the barn it seems to me 
that sort of cuts it out.” 

184 


THE TRAIN HOLD-UP 


“The door isn’t the only way to get into a 
ham,” observed Ken Davis wisely. 

“How about the bull, though?” 

“Ray Clark isn’t afraid of bulls!” declared 
Sissy Smith, who had a profound belief in his 
cousin’s daring and general prowess. “The bull 
would be scared of him, maybe.” 

“Let’s go around there and look!” proposed 
Artie Thomas. “It’s early yet.” 

“We’ve got to get dry first,” reminded Chet. 

“Why, what happened to you?” asked Chase 
Roberts. 

Chet told the story of their adventures, omit- 
ting any mention of his disagreement with Dick 
Reynolds, and Chase laughed rather unfeel- 
ingly. 

“You got all that was coming to you that 
time,” he observed. “You can come around to 
my house, if you’d like. The cook’s out, and 
you can have the kitchen all to yourselves. ’ ’ 

“All right,” agreed Chet. “That will be 
fine. Then when we get dry, we’ll go with you 
to Thompson’s.” 


I 


CHAPTER XII 


A “BULLY” TIME 

* 

A N hour or so later, Chase Roberts stuck 
his head into the kitchen where the 
Scouts were gathered. 

“Are you fellows dry yet?” he inquired. 
“All except our clothes,” responded Chet. 
“We were dry seven and a half minutes ago,” 
added Artie Thomas, who considered himself a 
humorist. 

“We were just talking about going around 
to that farm house,” observed Dick Reynolds. 
“I suppose you’re with us?” 

Chase Roberts had stepped inside the kitchen 
by this time, and he hesitated a moment. 

“Can you get along all right alone?” he 
finally asked. “I don’t think that farmer likes 
me . 9 9 

“What did you do to him?” questioned 
George Ferguson. 

“I didn’t do anything,” responded Chase. 
186 


A “BULLY” TIME 


“If it wasn’t for the Scout Law I’d have liked 
to, though.” 

“Then why don’t you want to come along?” 

“I don’t think that farmer likes me,” re- 
peated Chase. 4 4 He seemed to think I asked too 
many questions for a fellow of my size.” 

“All right, then,” agreed Chet. “Just tell 
us where the place is, and we’ll do the rest.” 

“I don’t think we’ll find him there at this 
time in the afternoon, anyway!” declared Ken 
Davis, resuming the argument which Chase had 
interrupted. “If he only goes there to sleep, 
he probably won’t show up until some time in 
the evening, when it gets dark.” 

“If we wait until it gets dark, we won’t be 
able to catch him anyway,” objected Chet. 
“Besides, the farmer would probably have a 
couple of dogs loose then, and we don’t want 
to take any chances with them. We’ve run into 
enough trouble as it is.” 

“Aren’t you going to ask the farmer to 
let you look in his barn?” asked Chase in 
some surprise. “He wouldn’t like it if you 
didn’t.” 

“If he’s as cross as you say, he probably 
wouldn’t let us even if we did ask him,” stated 
187 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Chet. “We thought the best thing would be to 
search the barn first and then ask him after- 
wards. ’ ’ 

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” counseled the 
other. “He might get mad, if he saw you, and 
there ’s no telling what he might do. Just tell 
him what the trouble is, and I guess you’ll get 
along all right/ ’ 

“But suppose Ray isn’t there?” asked Ken. 

“Then we’ll hide in the bam and wait until 
he comes,” replied Chet promptly. Then he 
turned to his Assistant Patrol Leader. “Feel 
up to it?” he inquired. 

“I’m all right!” declared Dick, stiffly. 

Following the directions which Chase had 
given them, the Bucktail Patrol soon arrived in 
front of a fairly large, red-painted farm house, 
with a barn, not painted any particular color at 
all, standing some distance from it. 

‘ ‘ This is it, ’ ’ observed Chet. ‘ 4 And that ’s the 
barn where Ray Clark is living. ’ ’ 

“Maybe,” supplemented Ken Davis. 

They entered the gate, and walked boldly up 
to the front door. Chet pulled the bell, waited, 
and then pulled it a second time, somewhat more 
vigorously. Nothing happened. 

188 


A “BULLY” TIME 


‘ ‘ Maybe it ’s broken, ’ ’ suggested Ken. 4 4 Let ’s 
knock . 9 9 

He lifted his hand as he spoke and gave three 
sharp raps. The door swung suddenly open, 
and the figure of a lanky but powerfully-built 
man with long hair and a disagreeable expres- 
sion appeared in it. 

4 4 What do you boys want V 9 he snapped. 4 4 Get 
out of here or I’ll set the dog on you !” 

Though somewhat taken aback, Chet held his 
ground. 

4 4 Please, sir,” he began, 4 4 are you Mr. 
Thompson ? ’ ’ 

4 4 That’s my name,” was the ungracious re- 
tort. 4 4 What about it?” Chet continued his 
inquiry. 

44 A fellow named Ray Clark ran away from 
home in Norfolk a few days ago,” he related. 
4 4 Somebody told us they thought he might be 
hiding in your barn, and we came up to ask you 
if we might look through it. We’re Boy 
Scouts.” 

44 I ain’t goin’ to have any Boy Scouts, or any 
other kind of boy, poking around my place!” 
retorted the farmer irritably. 44 I ain’t got 
nothin’ to do with any of your runaway boys, 
189 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


and there ain’t nobody livin’ in my barn neither. 
Now clear out!” 

“ Would you mind letting us look for our- 
selves, please?” questioned Ken Davis. “It 
will only take a few minutes, and you can see 
for yourself that we don’t disturb anything.” 

“I ain’t goin’ to take all the trouble of goin’ 
down and unlockin’ the bam, jest for a parcel 
of fool boys,” said the unaccommodating Mr. 
Thompson. “Now clear out!” 

“Then would you mind letting us have the 
key, so we can unlock the door ourselves?” 
asked Chet, as politely as he could. “We’ll 
bring it right back, just as soon as we’re 
through.” 

“I tell you there ain’t nobody there!” re- 
peated Mr. Thompson. “That’s whar I keep 
my bull, an’ there ain’t no room for boys.” 

“Is the bull loose?” queried Artie Thomas. 

“No, he ain’t loose, but you’d better keep 
away from him jest the same!” was the retort. 

“ We ’ll keep away from him all right ! ’ ’ prom- 
ised Chet, with evident sincerity. “Only we 
want to find Ray Clark if we can. There’s a 
reward for him.” 

A shrewd look came into the farmer’s eyes. 
190 


A “BULLY” TIME 

“Ef the boy’s found on my premises, seems 
ter me I ought to git the reward,” he stated. 

“You can have it,” agreed Chet. “We 
wouldn’t take it anyway.” 

“How much is it?” questioned the farmer 
cunningly. 

“Fifty dollars,” replied Chet. The farmer 
shot a swift glance at him. 

“You ain’t foolin’ me, he you?” he asked. 

“Honest injun!” answered Chet. 

The farmer hesitated a moment. Then he 
turned and went into the back part of the 
house. 

“That’s the way to talk to him,” commented 
Ken. 

In a short time the farmer returned with a 
key. 

“Be keerful not to lose it,” he cautioned. 
“An’ don’t try none of your monkey-shines. 
I’ll be watching you from the kitchen window 
with a shot-gun.” 

Chet took the key. 

“Thank you, sir,” he said. “We’ll be care- 
ful.” 

“Gee, he’s got a lovely disposition,” declared 
Artie Thomas, as they set out for the barn. 

191 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Reminds me of a grouchy bulldog with indi- 
gestion. ’ ’ 

“He gave us the key, just the same,” ob- 
served Chet. 

“So would anybody, if they thought they 
were going to get fifty dollars out of it,” de- 
clared Ken. “That’s business!” 

“I wonder if Ray Clark really is in the 
barn?” said Ken Davis. “It seems like a pretty 
long chance to me.” 

“We’re pretty sure he came to Portland, 
from what the station agent told that other 
fellow,” observed Chet. “That was probably 
why they telephoned us from Norfolk to come 
here.” 

“And if he’s in Portland at all, he might just 
as well be in this barn as anywhere else,” added 
Sissy Smith. “Better, in fact.” 

“Q. E. D.,” finished up Clam Jamieson, who 
was fond of mathematics. 

The barn itself was rather a blank-looking 
affair with a wide double door, flanked by a 
couple of small, barred windows serving to 
break the monotony of the lower story, in front. 
Directly above the central double doors and 
just under the eaves of the roof was a smaller 
192 


A “BULLY” TIME 


door, leading presumably to the hay loft. This 
door was slightly ajar; but as the Scouts drew 
nearer, it quietly closed. 

“Did you see that?” cried Ken Davis. 
“There must be somebody inside!” 

“Maybe it was the wind,” ventured Sissy. 

“There isn’t any wind,” answered Ken. 
“I’ll just bet that it was Ray Clark, and that 
he was watching us.” 

“Two of you fellows go around on each side 
of the barn,” directed the Patrol Leader. 
“There must be some other windows in the 
thing — and if anybody tries to get away, nab 
him.” 

Chalmers Jamieson, Ken Davis, Artie 
Thomas, and Harry Richards quickened their 
pace, split up into two squads, and went around 
each end of the barn at a trot. The remaining 
Scouts — Chet Richards, Dick Reynolds, Sissy 
Smith, and George Ferguson — kept on to the 
door of the barn. It was heavily padlocked, 
and while Chet was still fumbling with the key, 
George Ferguson raised his hand. 

“Hush!” he whispered sharply. “I thought 
I heard something.” 

A noise as of excited stamping and pawing 
193 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


was distinctly audible. This was followed by 
an angry bellow. 

“It's the bull!” exclaimed Dick Reynolds, 
who was standing close to the door ready to 
throw it open as soon as it had been unlocked. 

“Do you suppose he’s really tied?” asked 
George Ferguson, rather uneasily. 

“Sure!” responded Ghet confidently. As he 
spoke, he removed the padlock and, with Dick’s 
help, threw open the heavy doors, which opened 
towards the inside of the barnyard. 

Instantly, there was a still louder bellow, the 
stamping and pawing turned into a charge, and 
with lowered head and wildly glaring eyes, a 
large, black, and infuriated bull rushed through 
the opening and bore down upon the boys. 

“Run!” screamed George Ferguson. 

He and Sissy Smith, who were nearest the 
fence, dashed towards it for safety. The fence 
was only a couple of hundred feet off, but it 
was too far away for Chet and Dick, who were 
of course close by the door of the barn, to be 
able to reach it before the bull caught them. 
Seeing this, Dick gave a scream of mortal ter- 
ror, as he started to run, almost without know- 
ing what he did, in the direction the others had 
194 



‘‘The two boys rushed blindly for their only hope of safety.” 



A “BULLY” TIME 


taken. Chet, fortunately, was cool-headed in 
an emergency. Springing forward he grabbed 
Dick by the arm while he shouted in his ear : 

‘ ‘ This way ! Up the grape trellis ! ’ ’ 

Extending from one side of the bam was a 
sort of arbor which served to cover a short path 
leading to the well, and also to provide a rest- 
ing place for some aged and infirm grape vines. 

‘ 1 This way!” screamed Chet again. “Up 
here, quick!” 

The two boys rushed blindly for their only 
hope of safety, and desperately scrambled up 
it. Almost before they had gotten out of reach, 
the bull rushed for them, charging against the 
slender supports of the trellis with a crash 
which demolished one of them, and set the en- 
tire frame-work to quivering dangerously. 

“This way!” shouted Dick in turn. “Up on 
the roof!” 

The eaves of the barn, against which the trel- 
lis ended, were a little distance above the top, 
and the slant of the roof was a steep one. To 
Chet, it seemed almost impossible to climb up 
there without falling off the roof, and possibly 
on to the ground, in the attempt. Dick, how- 
ever, who besides being more than usually ac- 
195 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


tive for a boy of bis age was the kind of boy 
who did a thing whether he was able to or not, 
seized hold of the not very strong galvanized 
iron gutter which ran along the edge of the 
roof and, by a desperate effort, managed to pull 
himself up enough to get one knee in the gutter. 
For an instant, it seemed as though he were 
going to lose his balance and fall back; but he 
steadied himself, drew his other leg up, so that 
he got a foothold in the gutter, and then held 
out his hand to Chet. 

“Come along !” he said. “I’ll help you.” 

It is a wonder that the gutter did not break 
under the combined weight and struggles of the 
two boys, but although it was considerably bent 
out of shape, it still held, and Chet, panting and 
red in the face, was finally hauled up on the 
roof beside Dick, who was at first obliged to 
hold on to him to prevent his slipping off. Then 
Chet recovered his balance and after one or 
two unsuccessful attempts, managed to catch 
his heels in the rim of the gutter. Just as he 
did so, the bull brought the trellis down, and 
with a triumphant bellow began goring among 
the ruins. 

For a moment, both boys were trembling too 
196 


A “BULLY” TIME 


much from their narrow escape to think of any- 
thing else. Then Chet held out his hand. 

“I guess you saved my life that time,” he 
declared. ‘ ‘ Thanks. ’ ’ 

Dick grabbed it. 

“No I didn’t; you saved mine!” he returned. 

“You hauled me up on the roof,” answered 
Chet. “Only for that I wouldn’t be here.” 

1 ‘ And you told me where to run to , 9 1 retorted 
Dick. “Only for that I wouldn’t have been 
here to haul you up.” 

“I guess we’re quits then,” said Chet. 

“No we aren’t either!” declared Dick. “I 
acted like a mucker to you this afternoon. I 
want to take it back.” 

“Oh, that’s all right,” Chet assured him. 
“You were just a little sore, I guess.” 

“I was ‘sore’ all right!” admitted Dick. 
“But it was more than ‘just a little.’ ” Sud- 
denly Chet, from his point of vantage on the 
roof, gave a shout. 

“There he goes!” he cried. “Get after him, 
somebody ! ’ ’ 

A boy had dropped from the rear window of 
the bam, and was now racing across the fields 
to the shelter of the nearest woods. 

197 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

“It’s Ray Clark !” gasped Dick. 

At the sound of the adventure with the bull, 
the four Scouts who had been detailed to go 
around the barn naturally turned back; and 
then stopped still for a moment, uncertain what 
to do. Now they heard Chet’s shout, saw the 
running boy, and without further hesitation 
set sail after him. 

“They’ll get him,” observed Chet compla- 
cently. “Ken Davis is a good runner.” 

“I don’t understand about this blame bull, 
though,” commented Dick. “How did he hap- 
pen to be loose, and why was he so mad when 
we opened the door?” 

“I think I know,” declared Chet. “Proba- 
bly Ray Clark cut him loose and then tickled 
him with a pitch-fork, or something, to get him 
angry.” 

“Ray wouldn’t do a thing like that,” stated 
Dick. “He wouldn’t want to hurt any of us 
badly. He isn’t that sort of a fellow.” 

“I don’t believe he thought of anything like 
that,” returned Chet. “Probably he only 
wanted to make a little excitement so that he 
would have a chance to sneak out — just as he 
did.” 


198 


A “BULLY” TIME 


4 ‘Here comes the farmer !” announced Dick, 
who had been glancing in the opposite direction 
from the woods. 

“Gee, won’t he be mad, though!” exclaimed 
Chet, not very enthusiastically. “He’ll be al- 
most as bad as the bull.” 

“He’s got us treed, too,” added Dick. “I’ve 
had all the trouble I want for one day.” 

George Ferguson and Sissy Smith, who had 
started to run towards the house in their anx- 
iety to escape the bull, saw this new danger, 
and made off in a third direction. The farmer, 
however, made no attempt to chase them. 

“He knows he’s got us,” muttered Dick. “I 
guess that’s all he wants. Wish I was some- 
body else ! ’ ’ 

The farmer, with a heavy cane in one hand, 
approached with long strides, until he was 
directly under the boys. 

“You young varmints!” he yelled, shaking a 
huge fist at them. “What have you been doin’ 
to my bull?” 

“Oh, we were just playing Mexican bull- 
fight,” answered Dick, from his point of safety. 
“You can have him now, if you want. We’re 
all through with him.” 


199 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


The animal in question, having vented his 
rage by demolishing the grape arbor, was now 
standing placidly in the ruins, shaking his head 
and muttering to himself. Shifting the cane to 
his left hand, the farmer went directly up to 
the animal, seized the frayed end of rope which 
was dangling from his neck, and led him back 
to his quarters. 

“ Now’s our chance !” exclaimed Dick. 
“ Let’s drop to the ground and run for it!” 

The height of the barn eaves from the ground 
was about twenty feet. From the top, it looked 
about one hundred and twenty. Chet glanced 
down. 

“That’s quite a distance,” he observed. 

“Rats!” declared the adventurous Dick. 
“I’ll go first and catch you!” 

He turned over so that he lay flat on his stom- 
ach, and gripped the slight gutter with both 
hands. Then he pushed himself backwards un- 
til he was clear of the roof, steadying himself 
by pressing his toes against the wall of the barn. 
Finally he was suspended at full length, still 
clutching the gutter with his hands. For a mo- 
ment, he hung there, as if afraid to let go. 
Then he closed his eyes and dropped. 

200 


A “BULLY” TIME 


He landed in a heap, and gave a sort of grnnt. 
Almost instantly, however, he had picked him- 
self np again. 

1 1 Aw, it isn’t anything!” he told Chet. 
“Come on, and I’ll catch yon.” 

Following the other’s example, Chet slowly 
wriggled himself off the roof, dropped, and 
landed in a heap, the force of the fall partly 
broken by Dick’s arms. 

“Now run f or it ! ” cried Dick. 1 ‘ Here comes 
the farmer again!” 

Mr. Thompson, reappearing from the bam 
with a long ladder on his shoulder and the cane 
exchanged for a good, healthy horsewhip, saw 
the two hoys scurrying across the fields and out 
of his reach. He looked after them regretfully, 
and then in spite of himself a grin came over 
his wrinkled face. 

“Well, I skeered ’em, anyhow!” he reflected. 


CHAPTER XIII 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 

D ICK and Chet did not stop running at 
full speed until they had crossed three 
meadows and two stone walls and a 
brook. Then they pulled up, panting, and held 
a short conference. 

“We’ve got to find the other fellows and 
warn them not to go back there with Ray,” 
observed Chet. 

‘ ‘ They went into the woods, ’ ’ remarked Dick. 
“We’d better stay out here in the open where 
we can see them when they come back again.” 

Sissy Smith and George Ferguson came run- 
ning from somewhere behind and joined them. 

“Here come the other fellows,” stated Sissy. 
“And they’ve got Ray.” 

As he spoke, a small group of boys came into 
sight from behind a clump of trees. In the 
center, held tightly by each arm, was a red- 
haired, freckle-faced boy who was expostulat- 
202 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 


mg violently. At sight of the other Scouts, he 
gave a sudden wrench, freed himself from his 
captors, and dashed off across the field again. 
Ken Davis was after him like a flash, got near 
enough to trip him, and went sprawling to the 
ground on top of the fugitive. Chet and Dick 
rushed forward and threw themselves upon the 
boy underneath, who was struggling wildly. 

“ Better tie his hands behind him,” advised 
Dick. “Then he won’t be able to get away so 
easy.” 

Chet took out his handkerchief and knotted 
the other’s wrists firmly behind his back. Then 
he rolled him over on his face. 

“Hello, Ray!” he said. 

“Hello, Ray!” echoed George Ferguson and 
Sissy Smith, who had come up. 

Ray made a last ineffectual struggle to 
escape. 

“Let me alone, you blame little kids!” he ex- 
claimed. “I’ll lam one of you in the eye, if 
you don’t let me go!” 

Dick Reynolds placed himself tantalizingly in 
front of the helpless runaway. 

“Go ahead!” he invited. Ray fairly grew 
pale with anger. 


203 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

4 4 I’ll get even with you some day !” he prom- 
ised wrathfully. 4 4 You too!” he added, speak- 
ing to Sissy Smith. 4 4 You little squealer. ’ ’ 

4 4 Who’s a squealer?” demanded Sissy. 

4 4 You are!” exclaimed Ray. 4 4 You saw me 
going away, and you told on me ! J ust wait till 
I get hold of you ! 9 9 

Chet Richards took a hand in matters. 

4 4 It wasn’t Sissy’s fault,” he said. 4 4 The 
Scout Commissioner ordered us all to go on a 
search for you, as soon as they found out you’d 
run away.” 

44 What business is it of his?” demanded Ray 
angrily. 44 I guess I can go away from home 
if I want to!” 

4 4 Nobody’s stopping you,” remarked Artie 
Thomas. 4 4 We’re just going to take you back 
so that you can do it again, if you want to.” 

Chet thought that the runaway looked rather 
thin and pale. 

4 4 Are you hungry?” he asked suddenly. 

4 4 Never you mind whether I am or not!” re- 
torted the other. 4 4 Let me go!” 

4 4 We ’ll let you go when we get you back to 
Norfolk,” promised Dick. Ray struggled un- 
availingly to free his hands. 

204 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 


1 ‘ What are you going to do with me?” he 
finally asked. 

“Take you back to Norfolk, of course!” re- 
sponded the Patrol Leader. “What did you 
think?” 

“I won’t go back!” 

“How are you going to help yourself?” in- 
quired Dick. Ray turned furiously on him. 

“You just wait, Dick Reynolds!” he prom- 
ised. “I’ll get even with you!” 

“What’s the use in acting like a baby!” 
broke in Chet. “You’re going back with us, 
and that’s all there is to it!” 

“And I hope Uncle Dick gives you a good 
licking when you get there, too ! ’ ’ declared Sissy 
vindictively, remembering past grievances. 

At the mention of his parent, Ray’s face un- 
derwent a slight change. 

“Have you heard anything about my 
mother?” he inquired, with apparent indiffer- 
ence. 

“She’s been ill ever since you left,” Chet an- 
swered promptly. “That’s the main reason we 
were sent out to hunt you up. ’ ’ 

“111?” repeated Ray, incredulously. “You’re 
just trying to fool me, aren’t you?” 

205 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“No,” replied Chet. 4 ‘ She had what the doc- 
tors call a ‘ nervous breakdown/ and they were 
afraid she’d get worse if we didn’t find yon and 
bring yon back. ’ ’ 

“111!” repeated Ray again. “Gee, I never 
thought of that.” 

“Were yon going out to Mexico?” questioned 
George Ferguson. 

“Yes,” responded Ray. “Not that it’s any 
of your old business!” 

“Were you trying to make enough money to 
pay your railroad fare?” asked Chet. 

“Yes.” 

“Where were you working?” 

“Never you mind!” 

“Were you working at the automobile fac- 
tory?” 

“No.” 

“Where were you working then?” 

“None of your business, I tell you!” 

“Well, anyway, they’ll need somebody to take 
your place,” returned Chet comfortingly. “Be- 
cause by this time tomorrow you’ll be back in 
Norfolk. Are you hungry?” 

“Yes, blame you!” 

“Build a fire and get dinner ready, fellows,” 
206 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 


commanded Chet. “Are your hands tied too 
tight! ” he continued, turning to Ray. 

“A little,” confessed the captive. 

“Will you promise not to try to get away if 
I undo them!” 

“No!” snapped Ray. 

“All right, then. Want me to loosen them a 
little!” 

“I don’t care what you do.” 

Chet turned him over on his face again so 
that the light of the fire fell on his wrists — it 
was just commencing to grow dusk — and made 
the bonds somewhat easier. 

“Better promise not to try to get away,” he 
offered. “I’ll have to leave them tied up all 
night, if you don’t.” 

“No, I won’t! You mind your own busi- 
ness!” 

When dinner had finally been cooked, Chet 
fed Ray with a spoon, much to the latter’s evi- 
dent disgust. From the eagerness with which 
he swallowed it was apparently some little time 
since he had had a really good meal. 

“Feel better now!” asked Chet, as the last 
mouthful went into the department of the 
interior. 


207 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“ Never yon mind how I feel!” 

“ We’ll take yon home to yonr ma-ma tomor- 
row,” stated Artie Thomas, tactlessly. 

Ray became furious. 

“Yon stop talking about my mother!” he ex- 
claimed fiercely. Artie Thomas shrank back 
from his look. 

“I didn’t mean anything, Ray,” he apolo- 
gized. 

“We’d better send a telegram tonight that 
we’ve got Ray,” suggested Dick Reynolds. 

“Sure thing,” assented Chet. “Who’ll go? 
I’ve got to stay here, now. I’m responsible in 
case anything happens.” 

* ‘ Harry and I will, ’ ’ offered Dick at once. * i A 
walk ought to do me good.” 

1 i How about it, Harry ? ’ ’ inquired his brother. 
Harry jumped at the chance eagerly. 

“You bet!” he declared. 

“All right; go ahead. Look out for bulls and 
moving picture machines!” 

When the two boys were out of sight in the 
gathering darkness, Ray leaned forward and 
whispered something in Chet’s ear. Chet ad- 
dressed the others. 

“Go off for a few minutes, will you, fellows?” 

208 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 


he requested. 4 ‘Ray and I have something to 
talk over.” 

When the younger Scouts were out of ear- 
shot, Ray spoke in a low tone. 

“Honest now, was mother made sick by my 
going away?” he asked. “If you make fun of 
me for asking I’ll knock the stuffing out of you, 
some time. ’ ’ 

“No, I won’t make fun of you,” reassured 
Chet. “I know how you feel. Yes, she was.” 

Ray was silent for a moment. 

“I never thought of that,” he said again. 
“Has she been very ill?” 

‘ ‘ The last I heard, she was pretty bad. That 
was three days ago.” 

“Have you heard anything about father? 
What did he say when he found I was 
gone ? ’ ’ 

i 6 I don ’t know, ’ ’ replied Chet. ‘ ‘ They didn ’t 
tell us anything about him. Were you afraid 
he’d lick you for flunking that exam.?” 

“You don’t suppose I’d run away from a lick- 
ing, do you ? ’ ’ asked Ray contemptuously. “I’m 
not a baby!” 

“What did you run away for then?” 

“Will you mind your own business!” ex- 
209 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


claimed the other. Chet wisely shut up. There 
was another long pause. 

“Pm glad you’re going to send that telegram 
tonight,” Ray finally said, rather awkwardly. 

“We promised the Scout Commissioner to 
telegraph him whenever we got any news of 
you at all,” informed Chet. “We telegraphed 
once from Rosebank that we were on your trail. 
We thought we had you treed; but it turned 
out to he another fellow. Did you go there at 
all?” 

“No.” 

“Where did you go, then?” 

“None of your business!” 

“What’s the use in being so grouchy?” 
asked Chet. “We aren’t going to do anything 
more than take you back home. I should think 
you’d be glad to go anyway.” 

“I don’t want to be taken back, like a kid!” 

“Promise to come back with us of yourself, 
and I’ll untie your hands right now.” 

“No.” 

“Don’t they hurt?” 

Ray did not answer. 

Chet tried again. 

“ Would you have tried to run away, if you 
210 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 

had known how yonr mother would take it!” he 
inquired. 

Ray’s expression looked as though he were 
about to become furious again. Then he con- 
trolled himself. 

4 4 Look here, Chet Richards, ’ 9 he said. 4 4 Will 
you promise never to say anything to anybody 
else if I talk straight to you?” 

4 4 Cross my heart,” responded Chet. 44 I 
know how you feel.” 

4 4 Well, then, I really never thought about it’s 
making mother feel badly. If I had I wouldn’t 
have done it.” 

4 4 Then why don’t you want to go back 
home?” 

44 I didn’t say I didn’t want to. I said I 
didn’t want to be brought back like a — like a 
naughty little kid. ’ ’ 

4 4 If you’ll agree to come back quietly, I’ll 
undo your hands,” proposed Chet a second 
time. 

4 4 No ! ” snapped Ray, in a tone of finality. 

44 Why not?” 

44 I won’t, that’s all!” 

Conversation thereupon languished, and Ar- 
tie, Sissie, George, and Clam Jamieson came 
211 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


back to the camp fire. They sat around it for 
some time, the Scouts talking at random and 
Ray lying sulkily a little apart, seemingly pay- 
ing no attention to them. He was busy over 
something else. 

After a while, Harry and Dick returned from 
the village. 

“Did you send the telegram ?” asked Chet. 

“ No, ’ ’ replied Harry sarcastically. “We put 
a stamp on it and mailed it in the fire alarm box. 
What did you suppose ?” 

“We heard some news while we were at the 
telegraph office,” remarked Dick, rather seri- 
ously. 

“What was it?” 

“You remember how we saw the strikers at 
the factory stop a train and search it this morn- 
ing?” inquired Dick. 

“Yes; what about it?” 

“Well, later in the day they did the same 
thing to a train that really had some strike- 
breakers, and guards, on it. When they tried 
to search it, the guards fired at them with blank 
cartridges and scared them off . ’ ’ 

1 1 That doesn ’t sound very bad. ’ ’ 

“No ; but people are afraid that there may be 
212 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 


trouble, now that the strike-breakers have been 
brought in.” 

“Well, it doesn’t need to worry us, espe- 
cially,” commented the Patrol Leader. “We’ll 
be out of this place after tonight.” 

Harry Richards’ watch by the camp fire was 
between two and three o’clock in the morning, 
and he grunted unhappily as Artie Thomas, 
who had had the previous watch, poked him 
gently in the ribs with his toe to waken him. 

“Gee, but I’m sleepy!” he announced, with 
half open eyes. “I could lie here for a week! 
There’s been too much excitement for one day !” 

“I’ll take your watch for you, if you want,” 
offered Artie obligingly. “I’m not so very 
sleepy. ’ ’ 

Harry sat upright and dug his knuckles into 
his eyes to drive away the drowsiness. 

“No you won’t!” he returned. “I’ll be all 
right after I get waked up.” 

He resolutely cast off his blanket, and took 
his place on a fallen tree trunk close to the 
fire. It was a cloudless night, but there was no 
moon and the shadows of the nearby wood were 
dense and black. Somewhere in the distance, 
213 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

the faint barking of a dog could be heard. Then 
it stopped, and there seemed to be absolute 
silence. Harry fell to thinking over the events 
of the day, and two incidents were uppermost 
in his mind. One was that Chet had escaped 
injury by the bull, and the other was that Dick 
Reynolds had wanted him as a companion when 
he went to send the telegram. 

One of the sleepers — Harry could not quite 
be sure which one — stirred uneasily. Harry 
wondered drowsily if he were having a night- 
mare ; and if so what it was. 

The fire was beginning to burn low, but Harry 
was too lazy, or tired, or sleepy to attend to it 
right away. 

‘Tna few minutes more I will,” he promised 
himself. 

He folded his arms over his knees and put 
his head down in them to shield his eyes from 
the flickering light of the fire. Gradually, for- 
getfulness stole over him. 

When next he opened his eyes, he was sur- 
prised and puzzled to find that it was daylight. 
He sat up with a start and looked around. The 
fire was out. 

“Gee, I must have gone to sleep!” he mut- 
214 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 


tered ashamed. “That’s a nice thing to do, 
when you’re on watch!” 

He glanced about the camp. Evidently, none 
of the other Scouts whose watches came after 
his had awakened — since there had been nobody 
to call them. His eye fell upon the cocoon- 
like rolls of blankets which represented sleeping 
boys; and he jumped to his feet with a cry. 
Seven — and only seven — figures were lying on 
the ground, in various attitudes of blissful re- 
pose. Ray Clark’s place was vacant! 


CHAPTER XIV 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 
OR a moment, Harry stood thunderstruck, 



and almost afraid to tell of the escape 


and his own neglect of duty. Then he 
walked over to one of the cocoons and shook it 
sharply. Chet looked up at his brother in some 
confusion. 

“ What’s the matter ?” he asked. “My 
watch f ” 

“Ray’s gone,’’ said Harry simply. 

Chet bounced out of his blanket. 

“What!” he exclaimed. 

“I must have fallen asleep on my watch,” 
confessed Harry. “When I woke up just now, 
Ray was gone. ’ ’ 

Chet, though evidently much disappointed, 
did not find fault with him. 

“Any fellow is apt to go to sleep once in 
a while,” he stated. “You were tired out by 
all the fuss yesterday. I don’t blame you.” 


216 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


“What are we going to do about Ray, 
though?” inquired the one who was responsible 
for his escape. 

‘ 1 Get him again ! ’ 9 replied Chet, determinedly. 
“I’ll wake up the other fellows and tell them.” 

Soon the entire camp had learned the news 
of the loss of the runaway. 

“We’ll have to telegraph to Norfolk again 
and tell them about this, ’ ’ remarked Dick Rey- 
nolds. 

“We will,” agreed Chet, soberly. 

“Probably we’ll never get Ray again now,” 
complained Artie Thomas, who, being a humor- 
ist, was rather inclined to be pessimistic. 

Harry was anxious to retrieve himself for 
his mistake, and his brain was active. 

“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea to ask the 
Scout Commissioner to send word to the other 
patrols of our troop and have them come on 
here and help us?” he suggested. “They 
aren’t doing any good wherever they are.” 

“Why not have all the patrols of all the 
troops come?” added Clam Jamieson, who had 
big ideas when he had any at all. 

“WTiat good would they do?” asked the prac- 
tical Ken Davis. “They wouldn’t know Ray 
217 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


by sight if they saw him having his photograph 
taken. Our crowd is the only one that knows 
him. ’ ’ 

“That’s so,” admitted Clam. 

“You don’t suppose Ray Clark is going to 
stay in this town any longer, do you?” ques- 
tioned Sissy Smith. “He’s probably half way 
to Mexico by this time.” 

“How’s he going to get there?” objected 
Ken. “He hasn’t got the price of a railroad 
ticket.” 

“He’s got enough to take him away from 
here, anyhow.” 

“He hasn’t got that either,” stated Chet mod- 
estly. “I took all his money away from him 
last night, just for safe keeping.” 

“Then he’ll walk.” 

“He’d have to give up his job, whatever it 
is, if he did that, and he needs the money. ’ ’ 

“He’ll get whatever ’s coming to him before 
he goes away.” 

“The chances are they won’t give it to him 
before the end of the week,” broke in Ken 
Davis. “Business men don’t want their em- 
ployees quitting whenever they feel like it.” 

“Suppose they go anyway?” 

218 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


“Then they don’t get paid, that’s all.” 

“I think you’ve got the right idea,” agreed 
the Patrol Leader. “Ray’s got to have the 
money, and he can’t get it unless he stays the 
week out — probably.” 

“He can get along without the money,” de- 
clared Sissy. “He’ll walk to some other place 
and get a new job.” 

“He’s got to eat, hasn’t he?” asked Chet. 
“He can’t wait until he gets a new job for 
that.” 

“He can’t wait until the end of the week, 
either!” interposed Dick. “This is only Wed- 
nesday.” 

“He probably gets his lunch wherever he is 
working,” answered Chet. “Then he’ll eat 
enough to last him until next time. I guess 
that’s what he was doing anyway.” 

“He’ll have to pay for it, just the same.” 

“He can get some of the fellows he’s work- 
ing with to stake him for his lunch until pay 
day,” declared Chet. “If he went to some 
place where he wasn’t known, he couldn’t do 
that. ’ ’ 

“Looks as if he’d have to stay right here 
then, until the end of the week, ’ ’ declared Artie 
219 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Thomas, with the air of one who has made a 
great discovery. 

4 ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to get through 
your head for the last ten minutes,’ ’ returned 
Chet. “ That’s our only chance anyway.” 

Harry had been doing some more think- 
ing. 

“If the other patrols in our troop come here, 
we could scatter all over the town, and spy on 
every place in it where Ray might be working,” 
he observed. “That would make about thirty- 
five fellows altogether — and every one of them 
knows Ray by sight. We couldn’t help but spot 
him before Saturday.” 

“How soon could they get here, though?” 
asked the pessimistic Sissy, who always needed 
to be convinced. “They’re probably miles 
away from here, all over the country. It would 
be next week before they got here, and then 
Ray would be somewhere else.” 

“Most of them ought to be able to get here 
inside of twelve hours,” stated Ken Davis. 
“They can come by railroad; and they can’t be 
so awfully far from a station. The only thing 
is to get word to them quickly.” 

“We can telegraph to Norfolk, repeated 
220 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


Chet. “Then the Scout Commissioner can pass 
the word along/ ’ 

“But they may not go to a telegraph office to 
see if there’s a message for them before eve- 
ning/ ’ 

“Well, those that don’t will simply have to 
get here at night,” declared the Patrol Leader. 
“The whole crowd ought to be here by Thurs- 
day morning. That means that we’d only lose 
the rest of today.” 

“The sooner we send the message, the better 
chance there is of catching them this morn- 
ing,” observed Ken. 

“I’ll go and send the telegram now,” stated 
Chet. 

“Don’t you want your breakfast first?” 
asked Harry. 

“I’ll get that when I come back,” answered 
his brother, and set off at a trot in the direction 
of the village. 

“Let’s all go back to bed again,” proposed 
Clam J amieson. 4 4 It isn ’t six o ’clock yet. ’ ’ 

Harry did not follow the example of the oth- 
ers, however. His conscience reproached him 
for his neglect of duty, and he set about cook- 
ing a slight breakfast for two. Chet found 
221 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


him thus occupied when he returned from the 
telegraph office. 

“I’ll have some breakfast ready for you in a 
minute/ ’ Harry greeted him. “It’s nice and 
hot!” 

‘ ‘ Thanks,” replied Chet gratefully. 

While they were eating, Harry looked across 
at his superior officer. 

“I’m sorry I went to sleep that way,” he 
stated. 

“ That’s all right,” assured Chet. “It’s as 
much my fault as yours anyway.” 

“How was it?” asked Harry in astonish- 
ment. 

“Why, I loosened his hands a little for him 
last evening, because I thought the knot hurt 
him. He must have worked them loose during 
the night and then sneaked off. He wouldn’t 
have been able to get away at night, unless he 
had. ’ 9 

“Well, it’s sort of up to us to get him again, 
now,” declared Harry. “You sent the tele- 
gram, of course?” 

“Yes; and I’m going down there again right 
after the regular breakfast to see if there’s any 
answer.” 


222 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


“Why wouldn’t it be a good idea for the 
whole patrol to go down with you?” suggested 
Harry. 4 4 Then we could meet the trains as they 
came in.” 

“In case there were any fellows from the 
other patrols on them, you mean? Yes, I think 
that would be a good scheme.” 

4 4 There ’s nothing much else we could do any- 
way,” observed Harry. 

4 4 Not today; but tomorrow morning, if all 
the fellows come, we can spread out all over 
the town, and patrol nearly every place in it. 
That will still leave us two days before Satur- 
day.” 

In accordance with Chet’s schedule, the eight 
boys of the Bucktail Patrol cleaned camp after 
breakfast, packed their blanket rolls, slung 
them across their shoulders, and set out for the 
railroad station, which was in the heart of the 
town. 

4 4 Supposing Ray Clark sees us going?” sug- 
gested Sissy. 

4 4 He ’ll think we’re headed for home, prob- 
ably,” replied Chet. 4 4 And that’s just what we 
want.” 

The telegraph office, naturally, was in the 

223 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

railroad station itself, and Chet immediately 
stepped np to it and inquired if there were any 
messages for him. An instant later, he came 
back waving a sheet of yellow paper. 

“They’re on the way, fellows!” he shouted 
jubilantly. 

The paper read: 

Telegram received. Sorry. Word sent to others. Mon- 
goose and Zebra Patrols reached and on their way. 

That one word, “sorry,” caused Harry’s con- 
science to smite him a second time. Dick Rey- 
nolds caught, and interpreted, the look on his 
face. 

“Never mind, old man,” he said. “We’ll get 
him again.” 

Harry felt a throb of satisfaction. It was al- 
most the first time Dick, or anybody else, had 
ever addressed him as ‘ ‘ old man. ’ ’ 

“We will!” he answered. 

The station platform was not a very long 
one, and the boys soon became the center of 
considerable interest and speculation on the 
part of the railroad employees, and even some 
of the passengers. 

“Where’s the war?” inquired a burly porter, 
224 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


referring probably to the khaki uniforms which 
most of the boys had on. 

“I’ll bet they stop fighting and run when 
they see you coming,’ ’ added an expressman. 

“What does the United States need an army 
for, anyway?” contributed the doorman, who 
had just stepped out from the waiting room. 
“You Boy Scouts could lick any army that 
came across.” 

“We aren’t that kind of Boy Scouts,” in- 
formed Chet. “We do only peace scouting.” 

“What good is that?” asked the expressman, 
somewhat scornfully. 

“Lots of good,” replied Dick. “It’s better 
than fighting, anyway.” 

“I’ll bet you’d go into a war if there was 
one, just the same,” ventured the doorman ban- 
teringly. 

“Anybody would that was any sort of a 
man,” replied Dick Reynolds. “Patriotism 
comes first.” 

“Listen to what calls itself a man,” said 
the porter. 

Dick bristled. 

“I’ll be one when I grow up,” he declared. 
“That’s more than you ever will!” 

225 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“What are you kids doing here, anyhow ?” 
asked the doorman, to prevent possible hostili- 
ties. 

“We’re looking for a fellow who ran away 
from home,” informed Chet. “We know he’s 
in town, because we had him yesterday — only 
he got away again. ’ ’ 

“We’re down here waiting for some more 
fellows to come,” added Ken Davis. “They 
ought to be along pretty soon now.” 

“There’s a new fellow working on one of 
Eve’s express wagons,” observed the baggage- 
man. “Maybe he’s the one you’re after.” 

“What does he look like?” inquired Chet 
eagerly. “Red hair and freckles?” 

“He’s got some freckles, I think, but I 
haven’t noticed his hair.” 

“Maybe it is Ray!” exclaimed Sissy. “Does 
he come here often?” 

“He generally gets around every day. 
Sometimes his wagon doesn’t come, though. 
There are five or six of them.” 

“I hope he shows up today!” declared Chet. 
“Then we can tell if it really is Ray.” 

u And if it is, we’ll know where to look for 
him,” added Dick. 


226 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


Portland was a moderately good-sized town 
and most of the trains — the exceptions being 
the through expresses — stopped there ; but none 
of them contained anything even remotely re- 
sembling a Scout. Finally, about noon, an un- 
usually long train drew into sight. 

“That’s another through express,” declared 
Ken Davis. “She won’t stop here.” 

But as the train reached the further end of 
the platform, it began slowing down and finally 
came to a stop. As it did so, seven boys in 
Scout uniform tumbled off it. Then the en- 
gine whistled, and the train proceeded. 

“It’s the Mongoose Patrol!” exclaimed 
Harry. “There’s Perry Brett.” 

The Senior Patrol Leader came up to them. 

“What did you fellows let Ray Clark get 
away again for?” he demanded. “That was a 
fine thing to do!” 

“It was my fault!” declared Chet instantly. 
“I’m responsible for the Patrol.” 

“Yes; but he’s gotten away, just the same,” 
commented Perry. 

“We’ll get him again,” promised Chet, with 
confidence. “He’s got to stay in town until 
Saturday, anyway.” 


227 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Then he explained the situation. Perry lis- 
tened carefully. 

* ‘ We ’ll get him, all right ! ’ ’ he agreed. ‘ 1 Was 
he mad when you caught him the first time ? ’ ’ 

“A little,” answered Dick. 

“Well, hell be madder this time! You say 
he may be working on an express wagon?” 

“Yes.” 

“Here’s one coming now. Let’s see if he’s 
on it.” 

The boys watched breathlessly while an ex- 
press wagon drove up and stopped before 
the door of the baggage room. Two men 
jumped down from it, and commenced unload- 
ing things. 

“Neither of those is Ray Clark,” observed 
Dick at once. “They’re too big and they’ve 
both got mustaches.” 

“It’s the wrong express company, anyway,” 
stated Ken Davis. “This is the Interna- 
tional.” 

“Have you got a good place to camp over- 
night?” asked Perry Brett of Chet Richards. 

“Dandy!” 

“We’ll go there and talk things over when 
the rest of the crowd come,” observed Perry. 

228 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


“It’s lucky you telegraphed as early as you 
did. You just caught us.” 

“ Where were you?” inquired Ken Davis. 

“ Place called Pennebunkport. It’s only a 
way station, but an express train happened to 
stop there just to let somebody off, and we 
piled on before they could stop us.” 

4 4 How did they happen to let you off here?” 
questioned Ken. ‘ ‘ This isn’t an express stop 
either.” 

i ‘ Oh, I gave the conductor a little soft soap, ’ ’ 
responded Perry. * 4 Told him we were Boy 
Scouts and had been sent to Portland on very 
urgent business, and that if he didn’t stop the 
train for us there we’d open the windows and 
jump out. He didn’t want to at first, but I 
talked him into it.” 

“Here comes another train!” called out 
Sissy Smith. 

The train — which this time was a local — 
pulled into the station, and a little knot of boys 
descended from it. 

“It’s the Zebra Patrol,” declared Perry, 
after a quick glance. 

The six boys approached, headed by Chip 
Williams, their Patrol Leader. 

229 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

“The fellows in the Black Hawk Patrol ought 
to he along pretty soon,” he informed Perry. 
“I saw them waiting for a train at Hastings 
Landing. Ours didn’t stop there.” 

Sure enough, the next train but one from 
that direction contained the four specimens of 
Boy Scouts which at present comprised the 
“Black Hawk Patrol” of Troop Two, Norfolk. 
The remaining members of the patrol had been 
obliged by parental objection to stay at Nor- 
folk when the hike was undertaken. The Patrol 
leader, Donald Niles, was not in a particularly 
happy frame of mind. 

“We’ve been waiting at that old hole-in- the- 
mud ever since ten o’clock!” he announced 
wrathfully. “A train passed us about every 
half minute; but not one of them would stop 
until this old mile-an-hour thing came along. 
I’m hungry.” 

Perry Brett consulted his watch. 

“It’s half-past one, fellows,” he remarked. 
“Let’s eat.” 

“We can’t cook our lunch out here on the 
station platform,” objected Don Niles. “And 
if we go to a restaurant, we’d miss the rest of 
the crowd, if they came in.” 

230 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


“We can get some crackers and things that 
we can eat without cooking/ ’ stated Chet. 
“They’ll have to do us until dinner time.” 

By five o ’clock that afternoon four Patrols — 
the Mongoose, Zebra, Black Hawk, and Lion — 
besides the Bucktail, were on hand. Only the 
Bullfrog Patrol remained to be heard from. 

“Maybe they aren’t coming,” ventured Nel- 
son Weekes, the leader of the Lion Patrol. 

“We can’t wait any longer anyway,” re- 
turned Perry. “We’ve got to go to camp and 
get settled.” 

“But supposing they come after all?” 

“Some of you fellows will have to wait down 
here. Somebody in the Bucktail Patrol. They 
know the way back to camp, and the rest of us 
don’t.” 

“Harry and I will stay,” proposed Hick Rey- 
nolds. 

“All right! The rest of you come along to 
camp. ’ ’ 

After dinner had been eaten and the camp 
fire lighted, Perry Brett drew the four other 
Patrol Leaders — Chet Richards, Chip Wil- 
liams, Nelson Weekes, and Donald Niles — aside 
for a conference. 


231 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“We’ve got to get this thing all planned out 
so as to be able to start in first thing in the 
morning,” he declared. 

“The Portland fellows and ourselves have 
been to all the important stores, and so forth, 
already,” stated Chet. “I thought that the 
best way now would be just to scatter all over 
the town and patrol every street in it, just on 
the chance of running across Ray.” 

“Didn’t you say that Ray might be working 
for some express company or other! Seems to 
me we ought to look them up.” 

“Some of the Portland fellows have been 
there already; but they wouldn’t tell anything. 
Said they didn’t bother to keep track of the 
color of the hair of all the men they had work- 
ing for them.” 

“Then a couple of you fellows ought to go 
down to the station again tomorrow and watch 
the express wagons,” declared Perry. “If that 
wagon didn’t show up today, the chances are 
that it will tomorrow.” 

“That will take only two of us, though,” 
broke in Nelson Weekes. “What will the rest 
of the crowd be doing!” 

“I think half of us had better go around to 
232 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


all the stores and offices and see if we can find 
out anything,” declared Perry. “The other 
half can split up into committees of one and 
just go around the street keeping their eyes 
peeled.” 

“Are there enough for all that?” inquired 
Chip Williams. “Some of the fellows stayed 
home, you know. There are only six in my 
Patrol, counting myself.” 

“And there are seven in mine, five in Nel- 
son Weekes’, and four in Don Niles’,” re- 
sponded Chet, who had been counting noses. 
“And eight in the Bucktail Patrol makes 
thirty. ’ ’ 

“If the Bullfrog Patrol gets here, that will 
give us five more,” remarked Don Niles. 
“Baby Goddard won’t be left out in the cold, if 
he can help it.” 

“ We ’ll have enough, ’ ’ declared Perry. i 6 The 
Bucktail Patrol and my own will make a can- 
vass of all the stores and so forth; and the 
rest of you can just wander around and keep 
your eyes peeled.” 

“What are we to do if any of us see Ray?” 
queried Chip Williams. “Catch him?” 

“No. Just follow him up and find out where 

233 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


he goes. Then report to ns here tomorrow 
night, and the next day we’ll all go round in 
a bunch and get him. We’ll be sure of him 
then. ’ ’ 

Chet looked guilty. 

“That was a pretty bad break of mine, 
Perry,” he confessed. “I won’t do it again.” 

“You won’t get a chance!” retorted the 
Senior Patrol Leader. Just then a whistle 
sounded through the darkness. 

“That’s Harry and Dick!” announced Chet. 
“The Bullfrog Patrol must have come.” 

Soon seven boys stepped into the range of 
the firelight. 

“Here we are!” announced Baby Goddard. 
“Give us something to eat. We haven’t had 
any dinner.” 

1 1 Go and cook it for yourselves, if you want 
any,” stated Perry Brett, who was a strict 
disciplinarian. “That’s what the rest of us 
did.” 

An hour later, a large camp fire was burning 
cheerfully, with two watchers — to help keep 
each other awake — seated by it, and the remain- 
ing thirty-three Scouts stretched on the ground 
in a wide circle a respectful distance away from 
234 


REINFORCEMENTS ARRIVE 


the heat, many of them already dropping off 
to sleep in preparation for what promised to be 
a strenuous day on the morrow. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE VACANT HOUSE 



HURSDAY morning was clear — and 
hot. 


Gee, I hope we catch Ray this 


morning ! ’ ’ declared Dick Reynolds. 1 ‘ Then we 
can come back and take a swim in the brook 
here this afternoon.’ ’ 

“We are going to try,” Chet assured him. 

“Want to come along with me when we 
go around to the offices, Harry?” invited 
Dick. “Perry Brett said we’d better hunt in 
couples.” 

“Thanks,” replied Harry gratefully. “I’d 
like to, only I told Chet I’d go with him.” 

“All right,” answered Dick. “I’ll get some- 
body else.” 

The first business building in the section 
which had been assigned to Chet and Harry 
Richards was a large office structure — the prin- 
cipal one in Portland — seven or eight stories in 


236 


THE VACANT HOUSE 

height and containing, apparently, innumerable 
offices. 

“Gee, it will take us all day to go through 
this place/ ’ commented Harry. 

“I don’t believe it will be so bad,” returned 
Chet. “Most of the people will probably tell us 
right away that they don’t know anything.” 

One after another, they went to the various 
offices, made inquiries, and looked around as 
much as they could. The receptions they met 
with varied from polite answers in the negative 
to curt refusals to be bothered, according to the 
character and disposition of the occupant; and 
they had several amusing encounters with su- 
percilious or impolite office boys. Finally, they 
found themselves back on the sidewalk, no wiser 
than before. 

“Now what?” inquired Harry. 

“Now the next one,” replied Chet. 

Except for fifteen or twenty minutes spent 
in eating lunch at a dairy restaurant, which 
advertised “Surpassing Coffee,” the brothers 
searched steadily until five o’clock. 

“No use in trying it any more,” declared 
Chet, as they emerged from an office building 
along with a number of clerks, stenographers, 
237 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


and office boys. “All the places will be clos- 
ing up and the people going home now.” 

Rather discouraged at their complete lack of 
success, the two boys met the other members 
of their own Patrol at a place previously agreed 
upon, and then set out for the place of encamp- 
ment. On their way, they ran across Chip Wil- 
liams and the five other members of the Zebra 
Patrol whose parents had considered them old 
enough to go on the search. 

“Any luck?” asked Chet, not very optimis- 
tically. 

“No,” responded Chip. “We’ve been walk- 
ing the streets all day, and none of the red- 
headed fellows weVe seen even had freckles. 
I guess he’s skipped town after all.” 

‘ ‘ He can ’t have, ’ ’ Chet repeated. ‘ ‘ He hasn ’t 
got the price of a railroad ticket.” 

“Then he’s gone off in an aeroplane or a 
submarine,” stated Chip. 

“Maybe some of the other patrols have found 
out something,” suggested Harry. 

But when dinner at the camp was over, and 
Perry Brett drew the other Patrol Leaders and 
their Assistants to one side, all the reports 
could be summed up in one word — nothing. 

238 


THE VACANT HOUSE 


“Gee, this looks bad!” declared Baby God- 
dard. “We’ve been everywhere; and if he was 
around, we’d have spotted him sure.” 

“And my patrol and Perry Brett’s have 
been to all the stores and office buildings,” 
added Chet. “We couldn’t find out any- 
thing. ’ ’ 

“Who was down at the railroad station?” 
inquired Nelson Weekes. 

“Sissy Smith and Ken Davis,” answered 
Chet. “They saw a couple of Eve’s express 
wagons drive up; but Ray wasn’t on either of 
them. ’ ’ 

“We went around to the Express Company’s 
office, and they simply told us to clear out!” 
observed Dick Reynolds. “I’d have punched 
the fellow that threw us out in the head, if he ’d 
been a little smaller.” 

“Did they really throw you out?” asked 
Perry. 

“They would have if I’d given them a chance. 
Said it wasn’t their business to keep track of 
the family history of all their employees, and 
that they weren’t going to be bothered by a lot 
of impudent kids. I felt like telling the man 
at the desk what he looked like — he was the best 
239 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


imitation of a dachshund I’ve ever seen — but 
I decided not to.” 

“He must have skipped town!” declared 
Chip once more. 

“I don’t believe he’s done that,” replied 
Perry. “ He ’s probably still here — but we just 
didn’t happen to run across him. We’ll have 
another try at it tomorrow.” 

“That will be our last chance, too,” observed 
Chet. 

“I think we’d better all turn in now,” de- 
clared the Senior Patrol Leader. “We want 
to be as fresh as we can for tomorrow. Go and 
tell the fellows who have the first watch, some- 
body.” 

A few of the Scouts, however, were either 
more restless or more talkative than the others, 
and wanted to sit longer around the camp fire. 
Perry Brett’s father was a ship’s captain and 
a strict disciplinarian; and as a result Perry 
was something in that line himself. 

“Either you’ll go to bed when I say so,” he 
declared, “or else you’ll get taken down and 
dumped in the brook and given a spanking aft- 
erwards. What I say goes!” 

Lyle Roberts, of the Mongoose Patrol, hap- 
240 


THE VACANT HOUSE 


pened to have the first watch with Chet Rich- 
ards ; and both were glad of the excuse to stay 
up longer. The rest of the Scouts, with a little 
grumbling and a few indignant or rebellious 
whispers, rolled themselves in their blankets 
and stretched out on the ground in a wide 
circle, with their toes pointed towards the camp 
fire. 

Hardly had they become settled, when two 
small figures approached the camp from the 
direction of the fields. 

“ Who goes there ?” challenged Chet Richards 
promptly, as the light of the fire fell on them. 

“Stand and give the countersign,’ ’ added 
Lyle Roberts, who was also inclined to be 
facetious. 

“We’re from Troop Three, Portland,” was 
the response. “Have you fellows gone to bed 
already?” 

“Yes, confound it!” muttered a smothered 
voice from one of the blankets. 

‘ ( What ’s up ? ” asked Chet. ‘ ‘ Or did you just 
ccme on a visit?” 

“Has this fellow you’re hunting for got red 
hair and freckles?” asked one of the Portland 
Scouts. 


241 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Yes,” responded Chet eagerly. “Have yon 
seen him?” 

“I think so. Tommy Fisher here and I have 
been patroling part of the town all day, and 
this evening, about three-quarters of an hour 
ago, we saw a fellow like that pass under the 
light of one of those big arc lamps at the street 
comers. He had the red hair and freckles, all 
right.” 

“Where did he go?” asked Chet, somewhat 
less eagerly than before. He had remembered 
that all boys with red hair and freckles were 
not Ray Clark. 

“He acted as though he didn’t know where 
he was going. That was what made us notice 
him.” 

“How was he dressed?” inquired Chet, a 
little more hopefully. 

“He had on a dark brown coat and lighter 
brown trousers, a gray flannel shirt, and a 
green necktie.” 

“What kind of shoes — high or low?” 

“High shoes.” 

“Black or tan?” 

“Black.” 

“What color were his stockings?” 

242 


THE VACANT HOUSE 


1 ‘ Black — and lie had a little hole in the knee 
of one of them.” 

Chet gave a shout. 

“Run over and wake up Perry Brett !” he 
ordered Lyle Roberts. ‘ ‘ Tell him to come here. 
We’ve got Ray spotted now.” 

Soon Perry had joined the group. 

“Where did the fellow go to?” he questioned. 

“He looked around for a little while, as 
though he didn’t know quite what to do. Then 
he went into the cellar of a vacant house on 
Hope Avenue.” 

“Probably wanted a place to sleep,” com- 
mented Chet. 

“Is he there yet?” asked Perry. 

“He ought to be. We left two or three fel- 
lows on guard.” Perry, in turn, gave a shout. 

“Wake up, fellows!” he exclaimed at the top 
of his voice. 

Considering the fact that most of the Scouts 
were already awake and had been straining 
their ears to overhear the conversation, the 
quickness with which they assembled again 
around the camp fire was not surprising. Ten 
minutes later, thirty boys — the disconsolate 
Black Hawk Patrol had been left behind to 
243 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


guard camp — were on their way to Hope Ave- 
nue, under the guidance of the two Portland 
Scouts. 

In about half an hour, they had turned into 
a fairly broad side street, leading off from one 
of the main thoroughfares. 

“This is Hope Avenue,” announced one of 
the Portland Scouts. “And the house is about 
three blocks along it.” 

As they approached the house, Perry Brett 
called a halt. 

“We’re going to do things right this time,” 
he observed. “We won’t give him any chance 
at all to get away. Zebra Patrol, take a walk 
half way around the block and creep up in 
back of the house. Lion Patrol, guard the 
way of escape on one side, and Bullfrog 
Patrol on the other. When you’re all fixed, 
give your Patrol calls, and the Bucktail Pa- 
trol and my own will go up to the house and 
make a search. If Ray sees us coming and 
tries to run, you collar him. If he doesn’t try 
to run, we’ll get him wherever he’s hiding in 
the house.” 

Before very long, the guttural croak of the 
Bullfrog Patrol sounded through the darkness. 

244 


THE VACANT HOUSE 


Then came the roar of the Lion Patrol, and, 
shortly afterwards, the neighing of a zebra. 

“Come ahead, fellows,’ ’ said Perry. 

The Mongoose and Bucktail Patrols, still ac- 
companied by the two Portland Scouts, walked 
up to the front of the house, and started to go 
through the gate. As they opened it and 
started up the front walk, two figures rose from 
the shrubbery nearby and saluted. 

“The fellow’s in there still,” reported one of 
the watchers. ‘ 4 He got in through a cellar win- 
dow, and he hasn’t come out again.” 

“Which window?” inquired the Senior Patrol 
Leader. 

“This one right here. It’s the one they put 
the coal in, I think.” 

Perry walked over to it. Either it had been 
left unlocked or the catch had broken open. 
Perry lay down at full length in front of it, 
stuck his feet in the opening, and wriggled his 
body through. 

“After me!” he whispered. “Be careful, 
when you drop down.” 

The hoys outside heard a thump, followed by 
stumbling, as the other vanished from sight. 
Then Perry’s voice called out to them: 

245 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“It’s all right. Come ahead!” 

One after another, the Scouts squirmed 
through the small opening and dropped on the 
hard floor of the empty coal bin. Perry was 
already flashing his pocket lamp around the 
room, looking in all the dark nooks and corners. 
Such of the others as had flashlights fol- 
lowed his example. The cellar was absolutely 
bare. 

“Now we’ll go upstairs,” directed Perry. 
“This way.” 

Scarcely had the clattering of footsteps on 
the wooden stairs leading to the floor above 
ceased, when a boy, whose red hair and freckled 
face would have been easily noticeable if there 
had been any light to see them by, squeezed 
with some difficulty through the wide door of 
the old-fashioned furnace, listened carefully, 
and then tiptoed over to the window. It was 
high above his head. 

Feeling around in the pitch darkness of the 
cellar, he discovered an old box. This he 
dragged under the window, stood on top of it, 
and was able to get a firm grip with his fingers 
on the window sill. With the aid of a few 
friendly toe-holds in the wall, he pulled himself 
246 


THE VACANT HOUSE 


up, cautiously climbed through the opening, and 
paused stock still to look around. 

Almost directly in front of the house was a 
street light. This showed the four Portland 
Scouts sitting on the fence keeping watch. 

6 ‘ Darn them!” thought Ray. “ Wonder if 
there’s anybody around at the side?” 

He listened with his ears strained to the ut- 
most. From the darkness came the sound of a 
faint laugh. 

“The idiots!” muttered Ray to himself. 
“Don’t they even know enough to keep still?” 

However, that avenue of escape was cut off. 
For an instant, the runaway boy thought of re- 
treating to his hiding place in the furnace ; but 
he soon gave that up. 

“They’d be sure to look for me there, before 
they got through,” he commented. “Perry 
Brett’s no fool; and I heard his voice down in 
the cellar. Wonder who’s out in front?” 

Again he strained his ears and listened. The 
boys on the fence were talking together un- 
guardedly. 

“Those Norfolk fellows will get him this time 
sure!” one of them said. 

“ ‘Those Norfolk fellows,’ eh? They must 

247 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


be kids from this town, then,” was Ray’s 
thought. Being adventurous, he resolved to 
take a daring chance. He jumped to his feet, 
pulled his cap further down over his head, and 
walked boldly towards the front gate. 

The boys on the fence turned as they heard 
his footsteps, and one of them jumped down. 

“Who are you?” he asked. 

One thing that Ray had never done was to 
tell a downright lie. He hesitated a moment. 

“Have they got the fellow?” asked a Port- 
land boy, evidently taking Ray for one of the 
Norfolk Scouts. 

“They’re still hunting for him,” was the re- 
sponse. ‘ ‘ Where ’s the nearest drug store ? ’ ’ 

“What’s the matter?” inquired the other. 
“Anybody ill?” 

“I wanted to get something for indigestion.” 

This was perfectly true ; he did. 

“There’s one about three blocks away on 
Paine Street. You go down to the corner, turn 
to your right, and ” 

‘ ‘ Thanks, ’ ’ returned Ray. “ I ’ll find it. ’ ’ 

He stepped out from the shadow of the tree 
in which he had been standing and walked unmo- 
lested through the gate. 

248 


THE VACANT HOUSE 


“Didn’t he have red hair?” questioned one 
of the Portland Scouts suddenly. 

4 ‘ I didn ’t notice, ’ ’ responded another. 1 i What 
about it?” 

‘ c The fellow they ’re looking for has red hair. ’ ’ 

“You don’t suppose he’d walk right up and 
talk to us if it was that fellow, do you?” re- 
torted the other scornfully. “One of those Nor- 
folk fellows has red hair, anyway.” 

In about twenty minutes more, the Bucktail 
and Mongoose Patrols, having made a thor- 
ough search of the house — including the furnace 
in the cellar — started to return to outdoors. 
Much to their surprise, they found a box under 
the cellar window. 

“How did this get here!” exclaimed Dick 
Reynolds, in astonishment. Perry gave an 
exclamation. 

“It’s Ray Clark,” he cried. “He’s gotten 
away from us again!” 

“He can’t have gotten very far, then,” said 
Chet Richards, reassuringly. “The fellows are 
watching all around the house. He couldn’t 
have gotten past them.” 

One by one, they clambered back through the 
cellar window. When they were all outside 
249 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


once more, Perry led the way to the front gate. 
The Portland Scouts on the fence greeted them 
with: 

“Have you got the fellow ?” 

“He must have sneaked out of the house, 
somehow/ ’ responded Perry. “Haven’t any 
of you fellows seen him?” 

“The only fellow we saw was one of your 
own crowd,” declared the Portland Scout who 
had talked with Ray, and whose nickname 
around town was ‘ ‘ Bonehead Ryan. ” “ He went 
to the drug store to get something.” 

Perry forgot himself for the moment. 

“You blamed idiot!” he exclaimed. “That 
was Ray Clark himself.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE EXPRESSMAN 

T HE Portland Scouts were taken aback. 

“ Was that really the fellow you were 
after?” inquired one of them — the same 
who had brought the news of Ray’s discovery 
to the camp. 

“That was the fellow!” responded Chet 
grimly. “I should think you’d have known 
him. ’ ’ 

“He was talking to one of the other fellows; 
and he stood in the shadow of that tree over 
there. I didn’t really pay any special atten- 
tion to him. I supposed of course he was one 
of your crowd.” 

“You might have seen that he didn’t have on 
a Scout uniform,” accused Chet. 

“Some of your fellows haven’t, either,” 
defended the other. “He’s got nerve, all 
right ! ’ ’ 

“He wouldn’t be Ray Clark if he hadn’t,” 

251 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


responded Perry Brett. “He’s got a little com- 
mon sense, too.” 

“Well, I guess you’d have been fooled too, 
if you’d only seen the fellow once before, and 
he stood in the shadow of a tree!” returned the 
Portland Scout. 

“He had his cap pulled way down over his 
head, so that we couldn’t even see the color of 
his hair until he was walking away from us,” 
chimed in another. 

“Besides, he didn’t act as if he was trying 
to get away,” put in Bonehead Ryan. “We 
thought of course he was one of your crowd. ’ ’ 

“Well, he’s gone now,” declared Perry, 
rather impatiently. “We know he’s in town 
still, anyway.” 

“We’ll get him yet!” added Chet Richards. 
“It wasn’t my fault he got away this time.” 

“No; it was mine,” admitted Perry. “I 
ought to have left one of our own patrols out 
in front.” 

“What are we going to do now?” inquired 
Dick Reynolds. 

“Go hack to camp and get some sleep,” was 
the retort. “If we don’t catch Ray tomorrow, 
I’ll kick myself around the block. Come ahead.” 

252 


THE EXPRESSMAN 


The night was rather dark, and the footing 
across the fields to the camp rather uncertain. 
Suddenly Sissy Smith tripped over something 
and went sprawling, striking the ground rather 
hard. The next instant, he gave a sharp 
“Ouch!” of pain and pressed one hand ten- 
derly against his body. 

“What's the matter?” asked Chet. 

“I hit my thumb against a rock or some- 
thing,” responded Sissy. “I think it’s 
sprained. Gee, but it hurts!” 

“Let's have a look,” commanded Perry. 

He went up to Sissy and examined the in- 
jured thumb by the rays of his pocket flash- 
light. 

“It looks rather bad,” he admitted. “I'll 
fix it up for you as soon as we get back to 
camp. Maybe it will be all right again by 
morning. ' ' 

Soon the four patrols had reached the camp- 
ing place. The boys who had been left to 
guard camp were seated around the camp fire 
telling stories, but they sprang up when they 
heard the Senior Patrol Leader's whistle. 

“Where’s Ray Clark?” asked Donald Niles, 
who was in charge. 


253 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“He’s gotten away again!” replied Perry, 
briefly. “Turn in, everybody!” 

Sissy Smith had one of the night watches; 
but when the Scout who had been on duty just 
before came to call him, he found Sissy already 
awake and groaning slightly. 

“It’s my thumb,” he explained. “I hurt it 
last night, and it’s been getting worse.” 

“I’ll get somebody else to take your watch, 
if you want,” offered the other. 

i ‘ What ’s the use ? ’ ’ inquired Sissy. ‘ 1 1 might 
just as well be on watch as lying here. I can’t 
sleep anyway.” 

By morning, the thumb was so painful that 
Sissy went up to Chet Richards. 

“I think I’ll have to go home,” he stated. 
“I can’t stand this much longer. I feel sort of 
faint already.” 

“That’s the best thing you can do,” returned 
Chet. “Harry and I will go down to the sta- 
tion with you, to see that you get off all right. 
Maybe we ’ll run across Ray Clark. ’ ’ 

“Wliat’s this you’re going to do?” ques- 
tioned Perry Brett, who had overheard them. 

“Sissy’s hurt his thumb, and he wants to go 
home,” explained Chet. “W"e were going 
254 


THE EXPRESSMAN 

down to the train with him. All right, isn’t 
it?” 

“Sure it’s all right!” replied the Senior Pa- 
trol Leader. “Only you ought to have asked 
me first. I’m in charge of this camp!” 

“Well, then, what do you want us to do 
after Sissy gets oil?” asked Chet, “stay 
down at the station or go somewhere else, or 
what?” 

“Stay down at the station,” decided Perry. 
“And keep a watch on all the trains to make 
sure that Ray doesn’t take any of them. He 
may be scared off, after last night.” 

“What good would it do him to he scared 
off?” demanded Chet. “He hasn’t got any 
money. ’ ’ 

“Never can tell,” responded Perry. “I’m 
not taking any more chances.” 

After breakfast, Chet and Harry conducted 
Sissy Smith down to the station and saw him 
safely aboard a train bound for Norfolk. Then 
they went back to a part of the platform from 
which they could see both the trains and the 
depot square — particularly the part on which 
the baggage room opened. 

“May as well take in as much as we can,” 

255 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


remarked Chet. “As Perry Brett says, you 
never can tell.” 

“The fellows in our Patrol seem to he up 
against hard luck,” remarked Harry. “First 
I get bitten by a snake, then Dick Reynolds 
gets into trouble with a moving picture man, 
then you and Dick get treed by a bull, and now 
Sissy hurts his thumb. I guess we’re hoo- 
dooed.” 

Chet looked at him a moment. 

“You took all that fuss about the snake bite 
pretty well,” he remarked finally. “I didn’t 
think you had that much nerve.” 

“Neither did I,” admitted Harry. “I used 
to be an awful baby about some things, I guess . 9 9 

“Well, you’re playing the game now, any- 
way,” Chet observed. 

1 ‘ How do you mean f ’ ’ 

“You’re doing things right, that’s all.” 

Harry thought a moment. 

‘ ‘ I think I see what you mean, ’ ’ he said. “I’m 
still afraid of fire though.” 

“You went with the rest of us when we 
started to rescue those men in the barn.” 

“I know I did,” returned Harry. “But it 
took all the nerve I had to do it.” 

256 


THE EXPRESSMAN 


“Yes; but you did it just the same. A little 
while ago you wouldn’t have.” 

“You’re right there,” declared Harry. “I 
don’t know that I’d do it again, though,” he 
added reflectively. 

“Yes, you would,” returned his brother con- 
fidently “You’re all right.” 

Just then, a train on the up track rolled into 
the station, and Chet and Harry turned to 
watch the passengers who got off or were pre- 
paring to get on. 

“Ray Clark isn’t in that crowd, anyhow,” 
remarked Chet, as the little stream of would-be 
passengers emerged from the waiting room. 
“Wish he was !” 

After one or two people had descended from 
the train, the conductor and brakemen held out 
their hands to warn off those who were at- 
tempting to get on. 

“This train only stops to let passengers off!” 
one of them informed. 

“That’s funny,” commented Chet. “It 
doesn’t look like a through train.” 

Coming further out on the platform, the two 
boys went closer. Through the car windows 
they could catch glimpses of men in khaki uni- 
257 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


forms and the occasional glisten of a rifle 
barrel. 

4 ‘ Gee! I’ll bet they’ve called out the State 
militia for the factory strike!” exclaimed 
Harry. “That’s why they wouldn’t let any- 
body on.” 

The conductor waved his arm once or twice, 
the engine tooted, and the train slowly pulled 
out, gathering speed as it went. 

“I hope nothing happens,” declared Chet. 

Harry suddenly remembered something. 

“I heard one of those Portland fellows say 
that there ’d been a fire down at the factory 
yesterday,” he observed. “It started in the 
paint room or something; but they put it out 
before it did any harm.” 

“What started it?” inquired Chet. 

“I didn’t hear him say. Probably somebody 
dropped a match or a lighted cigarette, or some- 
thing clever like that,” replied Harry. “Any- 
way, they put it out.” 

“Yes; but next time maybe they wouldn’t,” 
commented his brother. 

The train gone, the two boys returned to their 
former posts of observation. On the further 
side of the depot square, a trolley line ran, and 
258 


THE EXPRESSMAN 


as the Scouts came in sight of it, a car came 
along, stopped, and discharged its passengers. 
Merely as a matter of interest, and with no ex- 
pectation of finding what they were looking for, 
Chet and Harry watched the people descend 
from it and go off in various directions. The 
last to alight was a fussy old woman in a red 
shawl and with a large bundle, which she lifted 
down from the platform with considerable diffi- 
culty and awkwardness. The conductor looked 
on with a rather contemptuous air, but appar- 
ently considered it beneath his dignity to help 
her. 

“The mean old lobster !” exclaimed Chet. 
“It’s a cinch he wasn’t a Boy Scout when he 
was a kid!” 

“Maybe that’s Ray Clark in disguise,” ven- 
tured Harry, referring to the woman in the red 
shawl. 

The woman in question was making her way 
slowly across the street. An express wagon 
which was coming along at a fairly rapid rate 
turned sharply, just in time to avoid a collision 
with her. Then it kept on toward the baggage 
room of the station. 

“Maybe this is the one we’re looking 
259 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


for!” whispered Harry, in some excitement. 

4 4 It’s Eve’s express wagon, all right,” ob- 
served Chet, as it drew near. “But neither 
of the men on it look very much like Ray 
Clark.” 

The wagon drew up just outside the station 
door, and in full view of the hoys. Two men, 
clad principally m large blue overalls, jumped 
off from it and commenced unloading a large 
crate, which was evidently to be transferred to 
the baggage room. One of the men was large 
and burly, with a rough, good-natured face and 
what would have been a beard if it had not 
been insufficiently shaved with a dull razor every 
few days. The other man was slighter in build 
and wore a cap which was so much too large 
for him that it came down to his ears and com- 
pletely covered the upper part of his forehead. 

4 ‘ Gee, he ’ll be squashed flat if he tries to lift 
that crate down!” declared Chet, who, being 
more or less of an athlete himself, was accus- 
tomed to sizing up others. 

The larger man pulled the crate over so that 
it could be lifted off the floor of the wagon and, 
bending his back so as to receive the greater 
part of the weight on it, took the front end of 
260 


THE EXPRESSMAN 


the crate. The other man swung the rear end 
clear of the wagon, received it in his arms with- 
out even staggering, and called to his companion 
to go ahead. 

“He’s strong, all right !” admitted Chet. 

Just then the crate lurched a little to one 
side. The smaller man, exerting all his 
strength, steadied it; but in doing so his cap 
was pushed partly off his head. A sudden puff 
of wind came up at that moment, and the cap 
went rolling along the ground. Harry darted 
to pick it up, but Chet grasped him by the arm 
and hastily pulled him back. 

“Look!” he whispered, pointing at the hat- 
less man. 

A head of dark red hair was disclosed to view 
and, what neither of them had been able to 
notice before, the upper part of the face was 
slightly freckled. 

“It looks like Ray Clark!” ejaculated Harry. 

“It is Ray Clark!” declared Chet. “I’d 
know him anywhere now — even with overalls 
on.” 

He pulled Harry further into the protection 
of the corner of the building. 

“Don’t let him see you!” he cautioned. 

261 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“Are yon going to try to catch him when he 
comes out again ?” questioned the younger boy 
in a whisper. 

“No, of course not! Now that we know he 
really is working for the Express Company, we 
can go around there in a bunch tomorrow morn- 
ing and get him.” 

“But he gets paid off tomorrow!” objected 
Harry. “We’ll lose him again.” 

“No, we won’t!” returned Chet. “We’ll go 
around early. We’d lose him sure if we tried 
to get him now though. ’ ’ 

“I don’t believe we could do it anyway,” 
stated Harry. 

“I hope he didn’t see either of us,” added 
Chet. 

“What harm would it do if he had?” asked 
Harry. “He’s got to stay in town until to- 
morrow morning anyway, if he wants to get his 
money. ’ ’ 

“Just the same, I’m not taking any more 
chances,” answered his brother. 

The baggage room, naturally, had a door 
leading directly out onto the station platform. 
The upper panel of this door was of glass and 
commanded a view of that part of the front of 
262 


THE EXPRESSMAN 


the building where the Scouts were standing. 
Suddenly Chet gripped Harry’s arm. 

“Duck!” he commanded tensely. 

Somewhat wonderingly, Harry obeyed, and 
the two boys crouched down until they were 
shielded from the casual gaze of anybody look- 
ing through the door. 

“What is it?” asked Harry under his breath. 

“Ray was standing near the door and he just 
happened to look through it. I was afraid he’d 
see one of us.” 

The boys remained in their crouching posi- 
tion until the crunching of the wheels of the 
express wagon as it drove off again came to 
their ears. Then Chet straightened up. 

“I don’t believe he saw us!” he remarked. 
“I ducked just as quickly as I could.” 

“He probably wasn’t noticing anyway,” 
added Harry. “I don’t believe he was on the 
lookout for anybody. ’ ’ 

“Ray Clark’s pretty wide awake,” responded 
Chet. “He’d have made a dandy Scout.” 

“He told Sissy Smith once that Scouting was 
only a ‘ kid’s game,’ ” stated Harry. “Said he 
wouldn’t be one if you paid him.” 

“Maybe he’s changed his mind about it’s 
263 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


being a kid’s game by this time,” returned Chet. 
“If he’d been a Scout he’d never have run 
away from home like this.” 

‘ ‘ Or even if he had, he ’d have gone back again 
as soon as he heard that his mother was sick,” 
stated Harry. 

“He couldn’t go back home now, even if he 
wanted to,” declared Chet. “He hasn’t got the 
price of a railroad ticket, and it’s too much 
of a walk if you haven’t got anything to 
eat.” 

“I bet he’ll go back there with us tomorrow, 
though,” observed Harry. Chet stretched him- 
self. 

“Let’s go back to camp,” he proposed. 
“We’ve found out everything we want to 
know.” 

The camp had been left in charge of five mem- 
bers of the Bullfrog Patrol, but only three were 
visible when Chet and Harry appeared upon 
the scene. 

“The other fellows are down taking a swim 
in the brook,” informed Baby Goddard, the 
Patrol Leader. “We drew lots for the first 
swim and they won. Wish they’d hurry up and 
come back.” 


264 


THE EXPRESSMAN 


“We ’ve found out where Ray Clark works,’ ’ 
Chet told him triumphantly. 

“ Where ?” inquired Baby Goddard quite 
eagerly. 

Chet thereupon related the whole story of the 
morning’s events. 

“I bet there’ll be trouble down at the fac- 
tory,” announced Baby Goddard, when he heard 
of the armed soldiers on the train. “One of 
those Portland fellows said last night that all 
of their troops had been ordered by the Scout 
Commissioner to hold themselves in readiness 
to help, in case they were needed for any- 
thing. ’ ’ 

“I hope nothing happens though,” declared 
Chet. 

“What will the Portland fellows do if they’re 
called out?” questioned Harry. “It isn’t a 
Scout’s business to get mixed up in any real 
fighting.” 

“I suppose they’ll try to prevent trouble 
from breaking out, or keep order in the crowd, 
or do First Aid work, or run errands, or some- 
thing,” responded Baby Goddard, somewhat 
vaguely. 

“Gee!” exclaimed the other member of the 
265 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Bullfrog Patrol. “I wish we could go down 
there and help them!” 

“I should think it would be our duty to any- 
way,” remarked Harry. 

6 4 That ’s up to Perry Brett,” declared Chet. 
“He’s the Senior Patrol Leader. I’ll speak to 
him about it this evening.” 

As dinner time drew near, the Scouts of the 
other patrols came straggling in, in twos or 
threes. All of them seemed discouraged. 

“Any luck?” inquired Chet of each of them, 
pleasantly. He had resolved not to say any- 
thing about his own discovery until Perry him- 
self came back. 

“I guess he’s gone out of town all right!” 
observed Lyle Roberts, of the Mongoose Patrol, 
as he and Coffee Washburn came in together, 
tired out and disheartened by the day’s search. 
Chet winked carefully at Harry. 

“We’ve got all the rest of the night,” he re- 
assured. “Maybe he’ll come walking right into 
camp of himself. You never can tell!” 

Finally Perry Brett, who was also discour- 
aged but did not show it, arrived. 

“I’m hungry as a bear,” he announced. “No 
reports until after dinner.” 

266 


THE EXPRESSMAN 


Chet had opened his month to tell the news, 
but now he closed it again. 

When the evening meal had been properly 
stowed away Perry, who could tell from the 
manner of the other Scouts that nobody had 
found anything, called the Patrol Leaders to 
him. 

“We ’ve lost out on this somehow,’ ’ he stated. 
“There’s no chance now of getting Ray before 
he gets his money. I hate to telegraph the 
Scout Commissioner about it, though.” 

Chet Richards, looking as discouraged as the 
rest, stepped forward and saluted. 

“I don’t suppose it would do any good to 
know where he is working, would it?” he 
inquired. 

“Of course it would!” snapped Perry. 
“Don’t be any more of an idiot than you can 
help ! ’ ’ 

“Well, then, Harry and I found out where it 
is,” declared Chet, innocently. 

“You did!” exclaimed Perry, both aston- 
ished and indignant. “Why didn’t you tell a 
fellow?” 

“I didn’t want to spoil your appetite for din- 
ner,” explained Chet. The Senior Patrol 
267 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Leader recovered his composure almost imme- 
diately. 

“ Where is he working, then?” he demanded. 

“Eve’s Express Company. We saw him on 
one of the wagons. We wouldn’t have known 
him if his cap hadn’t fallen off.” 

“Did you follow the wagon?” 

“We didn’t have to. We know where the ex- 
press company’s office is.” 

“The express wagons don’t leave from the 
office, ’ ’ stated Perry. Chet was taken aback. 

‘ ‘ Thunder ! ” he exclaimed. ‘ ‘ I never thought 
of that!” 

“Does anybody know where the stable is?” 
inquired Perry. Apparently, nobody did. 

“We’ve got to find out somehow before 
tomorrow morning,” announced the Senior 
Patrol Leader. 

“I’ll go down town again and look it up,” 
declared Chet, rising. “It was my fault.” 

“All right,” agreed Perry. “You can find 
it easy enough.” 

“Hope so,” replied Chet. 

“Why, all you’ve got to do is to ask some- 
body, or else look it up in a directory. Then 
go around there, so you will know the way.” 

- 268 


THE EXPRESSMAN 

“I will,” promised Chet, disappearing into 
the darkness. 

After all the rest had gone to bed, Perry sat 
by the camp fire with the two watchers. Finally, 
just before it was time to change the watch, a 
figure appeared from the darkness and walked 
up to him. 

“Well?” interrogated the Senior Patrol 
Leader. 

“I’ve found it,” said Chet. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE FACTORY WHISTLE 

W HEN Saturday morning came, the 
Scouts rose early and finished break- 
fast with a rapidity which would 
have shocked those people who advocate chew- 
ing each mouthful of food sixty-seven times. 
Then they set out for the business section of 
Portland, leaving one Patrol — the Black Hawk 
— to clean camp and keep guard. 

“We want to be at the livery stable early,” 
declared Perry Brett. “We don’t know what 
time those wagons start off.” 

The stable proved to be situated near a feed 
store on Washington Street; and when the 
Scouts got there, they found that the big main 
doors were closed and locked, while there was 
no sign of life in the neighborhood. Only 
the smoke from an occasional nearby chim- 
ney showed that everybody was not still in 
bed. 


270 


THE FACTORY WHISTLE 


Finding the big doors thus closed, Perry 
rapped, and then pounded, on a smaller one 
which bore the one word “Office.” Getting no 
response, he sat down quietly on the lower 
step. 

“We’ll wait until somebody shows up,” he 
announced. “We’re in time, anyway.” 

The minutes dragged slowly on. From neigh- 
boring stores and houses came signs that 
another day of activity was commencing. 
At intervals, a wagon or an automobile 
passed in the road, and occasionally a man or 
boy came along the sidewalk, stared curi- 
ously at the group of Scouts, and then passed 
on. 

At length, a thick-set, dark-complexioned man 
approached with vigorous steps, glared impa- 
tiently at the boys, went up to the office door, 
and unlocked it. Perry Brett instantly sprang 
up and followed him in, with the others at his 
heels. 

“What do you boys want!” demanded the 
man somewhat gruffly. 

“We’re Boy Scouts,” explained Perry at 
once. “We’re from Norfolk, and we’ve been 
hunting a boy who ran away from home there. 
271 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Yesterday, a couple of us saw him on one of 
your wagons. He has red hair, and is about the 
size of this fellow here.” 

* i What do you want with him?” 

“We want to take him back home, if we can 
get him,” continued Perry. “We did have him 
once, but he got away again. This time he isn’t 
going to.” 

“So you think you saw him on one of our 
wagons ? ’ ’ 

“We know we did,” answered Chet Richards, 
stepping forward. 4 ‘ Another fellow and I were 
down at the railroad station yesterday when 
one of your wagons drove up ; and this fellow 
was on it.” 

“How do you know he wasn’t just riding on 
it?” 

“Because he had on overalls and a cap, and 
helped the man who was driving to unload 
something. ’ 9 

“Would you know him if you saw him 
again?” 

“Of course we would!” responded Perry 
promptly. 

The office manager swung round in the pivot 
chair 'in which he had seated himself. 

272 


THE FACTORY WHISTLE 


“None of our men have come here yet,” he 
informed. 

“Then we’ll wait until they do!” declared 
Perry. “We can, can’t we?” 

“If you want. How are you going to induce 
the boy to go away with you?” 

“We’ll attend to that,” promised Chet. 

“How do I know that it’s all right to turn 
him over to you hoys?” was the next query. 
“I don’t know anything about any of you.” 

Perry Brett had in his pocket one of the cir- 
culars which had been printed, giving a de- 
scription of the runaway, and particulars con- 
cerning him. He drew this out and showed it 
to the office manager. 

“That’s the fellow we’re after,” he stated. 

The manager took the paper and examined it 
carefully. 

“Suppose he doesn’t admit that he’s the 
one ? ” he finally inquired. ‘ i How are you going 
to identify him?” 

“That’s easy!” responded Chet. “We all 
know him.” 

“Yes; but I don’t know you,” was the reply. 

“We’ll leave it to the fellow himself,” pro- 
posed Perry. 


273 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


4 4 Supposing lie denies it!” 

4 4 He won’t deny it, if he really is Ray Clark. 
If he isn’t, we don’t want him anyway.” 

4 4 How are you going to make him admit it?” 

4 4 When he comes in, I ’ll say , 4 Hello, Ray ! ’ If 
he answers, it will he the right fellow.” 

4 4 Supposing he doesn’t answer?” 

4 4 If it’s the right fellow, he will.” 

4 4 That’s what you call ‘arguing in a circle,’ ” 
observed the manager. 4 4 Still, if you’re satis- 
fied, I am.” 

4 4 When do you think he’ll be in?” asked Ken 
Davis. 

4 4 He may be here now,” was the response. 
4 4 Wait a minute and I’ll see.” 

4 4 Are you going to send for him to come to 
this room?” inquired Perry. 

4 4 That’s what you want, isn’t it?” 

4 4 Yes; only he’d better not see us until he 
really gets into it. He might get away again 
if he saw us first.” 

The office was divided into two parts by a 
rough plank partition, with a door in it. The 
office manager pointed to that. 

4 4 Go in there, then, and wait until I have a 
talk with the boy,” he said. 4 4 Then if every- 
274 


THE FACTORY WHISTLE 


thing is satisfactory, I’ll call you when I’m 
ready. ’ ’ 

“All right,” agreed Perry. 

The Scouts filed into the partitioned-off 
space, leaving the door slightly ajar, so that 
they could both hear better and peer through 
the crack. The office manager pushed a but- 
ton by the side of his desk. After a short pause, 
the door leading from the office direct to the 
stable was opened and a head stuck through it. 

“Well, what d’ye w r ant?” demanded a voice. 

The manager again consulted the paper which 
Perry had handed him. 

“Have we got a man by the name of Clark 
working for us?” he questioned. 

6 1 Search me!” was the prompt reply. 

“Go and tell the stable boss I want to see 
him, then,” directed the other. 

There was another long wait and then a new 
voice was heard inquiring: 

“Want me?” 

“Hello, Charley!” was the response. “Yes, 
I want to know if we have a man by the name 
of Clark working for us.” 

“Clark? Clark?” repeated the stable boss, 
in evident perplexity. 

275 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

“Rather a youngish chap, with red hair. He 
can’t have been with us long.” 

‘ i Oh, now I know who you mean, ’ ’ answered 
the other in a relieved tone of voice. “He left 
yesterday. ’ ’ 

“What did he leave for?” 

“I fired him because he wouldn’t do what he 
was told.” 

At this unexpected piece of information, 
Perry Brett walked back into the main office. 

“Ask him if he was paid off, or if he’s com- 
ing back today after his money,” he requested 
the manager. 

“We paid him off,” declared the stable boss, 
answering the question before it was asked. 

“Blame it!” exclaimed Chet, who had fol- 
lowed Perry. “We’ve lost him again!” 

“That’s all,” said the office manager to the 
stable boss. 

“Well, I guess there’s no use our staying 
here any longer,” observed Perry. “Much 
obliged to you, sir,” he added to the office 
manager. 

“No trouble at all,” answered the other, 
turning to his desk with rather a bored 
air. 

276 


THE FACTORY WHISTLE 


“Well, I guess it’s no use!” declared Perry, 
when the Scouts had regained the street. “Now 
that Ray’s got his money, there’s no telling 
where he’s gone. We’ve got the whole busi- 
ness to do all over again.” 

“He must have seen us at the station yes- 
terday afternoon, after all,” remarked Chet 
Richards to his brother. 

“What are we going to do now?” inquired 
one of the boys of Perry Brett. 

“I’m going down to the station to telegraph 
the Scout Commissioner again, and see what he 
says,” returned the Senior Patrol Leader. 
“The rest of you had better go right back to 
camp and pack up. The Scout Commissioner 
may tell us to give up the search now; and if 
he does, we’ll start right back to Norfolk. If 
he doesn’t, we’ll go on.” 

Just as he finished speaking, the Scouts were 
startled by hearing a long, loud blast — almost 
a shriek — from a powerful whistle. The noise, 
which was something between a wail and a 
scream, was both discordant and alarming. 
Hardly had the echoes of the first blast died 
away, when it came again, filling the air with an 
ear-splitting clamor. Still it continued, until 
277 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


every other sound was drowned out by the 
incessant warning. 

“What’s that?” gasped Chip Williams. 

“I’ll bet it’s the factory whistle!” exclaimed 
Perry Brett. “There must be trouble down 
there.” 

A boy in Scout uniform came tearing down 
the street in their direction. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Dick Reynolds, rec- 
ognizing him as one of the Portland Scouts 
with whom they had come into contact. 

“Factory down at the Point!” gasped the 
other, not even pausing. “It’s the alarm 
whistle ! ’ ’ 

“Are all you fellows going down?” somebody 
called out. 

“Yes!” shouted back the Portland Scout, 
over his shoulder. 

“Let’s go too!” proposed Dick Reynolds, 
eagerly. 

“Come ahead!” exclaimed several voices. 

“How about it, Perry?” asked Chet Rich- 
ards. 

This time, the Senior Patrol Leader did not 
hesitate. 

“Come on, everybody!” he cried. 

278 


THE FACTORY WHISTLE 


With a shout, the thirty hoys dashed along 
the street after the Portland Scout. 

They were not the only ones who had heard 
the alarm signal. All along the street, people 
'were rushing out of stores, homes, and build- 
ings, gathering in little knots, and asking ex- 
citedly what was wrong. The news of the strike 
was, of course, known to everybody, and the 
arrival of militia the day before had been whis- 
pered, although the factory authorities had 
publicly denied it and had said that the 
soldiers who had been seen on the train were 
merely volunteers on their way to or from a 
military training camp. Some people believed 
this, and some did not. On the whole, how- 
ever, the blowing of the factory whistle was 
taken as a sure sign that trouble had broken 
out. 

By this time, most of the Norfolk Scouts 
were fairly familiar with the general lay of the 
land in Portland, and Perry Brett led the way, 
at a moderately rapid pace, around corners and 
up one street and down another. Finally Harry 
Richards grabbed hold of Chet’s arm. 

“Help me along a little, will you?” he asked. 
“I can’t keep it up by myself.” 

279 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


Knowing that Harry was ordinarily a good 
runner, Chet slowed down to a walk. 

1 ‘ What ’s the matter V ’ he inquired. ‘ ‘ Aren ’t 
you feeling well?” 

“It’s my leg,” confessed Harry. “It’s been 
bothering me again for the last couple of days. ’ ’ 

“Gee, why didn’t you tell me?” demanded 
Chet, coming to a stop altogether. 4 ‘ It may be 
something bad.” 

“I didn’t want to say anything until I had 
to, ’ ’ replied Harry. ‘ ‘ I thought maybe it would 
be all right again before long.” 

“Does it hurt much?” asked Chet. 

“Like the dickens!” was the answer. “I 
think I’ll have to go back to Norfolk tomorrow, 
if it doesn’t get any better.” 

“Gee, is it as bad as all that!” exclaimed the 
other. 

“It hurts a good deal,” was the rejoinder. 
“And it’s swollen some too.” 

“You’d better not take any chances with it,” 
advised Chet seriously. 

“I think I’d better go back home myself,” 
admitted Harry. 1 i Only I sort of hate to do it. 
Some of the fellows might think I was a 
squealer.” 


280 


THE FACTORY WHISTLE 


“They’d better not!” declared Chet warmly. 
“Anyway, if you go, I go too.” 

“What for?” asked Harry in some surprise. 
“I can get along all right.” 

“I’m not taking any chances,” declared his 
brother. 

Harry thought a moment. 

“It wouldn’t do for you to go,” he finally 
stated. “You’re the Patrol Leader.” 

“I don’t care whether I am or not !” declared 
Chet. “The patrol can get along without me, 
I guess.” 

“You’d probably lose your job, though, if 
you went back on the Patrol that way.” 

“I don’t care!” repeated Chet. “Dick Rey- 
nolds can have it.” 

“Don’t be foolish,” said Harry. “Maybe 
my leg will be all right by morning any- 
way. ’ ’ 

The two brothers had by this time fallen 
some little distance behind the rest of the 
Scouts; but they had come out into the open 
country, from which they could easily see the 
direction taken by the others. 

“I think you’d better go back to camp,” re- 
marked Chet, seriously. 

281 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


“ No; I’ll keep on,” was the reply. “I won’t 
drop out until I have to.” 

“Can you walk a little faster?” was Chet’s 
next query. “The rest of the crowd is ’way 
ahead of us now. ’ ’ 

“I guess so,” responded Harry. 

They quickened their pace slightly, and made 
their way along the dusty country road, bor- 
dered on both sides by trees which shut off the 
view in either direction. All at once, they came 
to a place where there was an opening in the 
woods, through which a view of the Point on 
which the Portland Motorcar Company’s fac- 
tory was situated could be had. Then Chet 
gave a gasp. 

“Look!” he cried. 

A heavy black cloud of smoke was rising 
above the tops of the trees which hid the fac- 
tory itself from view. 


CHAPTER XVm 


A LITTLE EXCITEMENT 


R EMEMBERING Harry ’s fear of fire, 
Chet turned to him. 

“I guess you’d better go hack to 
camp,” he said. 

Harry read what was in his brother’s 
thoughts, and forgot all about his leg and every- 
thing else. 

‘ ‘ I ’m going down there ! ” he answered. ‘ ‘ No- 
body’s going to have a chance to call me a 
baby again.” 

Between the railroad tracks and the main 
road, on which the boys were standing, was a 
wide stretch of marshy ground, with a narrow 
and not very straight board-walk crossing it 
at one point. The road which led to the factory 
went over the railroad track on a bridge at the 
further end of the Point. The only other means 
of approach, from the town, was the railroad 
track itself. 


283 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


A procession of small, black figures was 
slowly making its way in single file along the 
board-walk, which crossed the marsh. 

i ‘ Those must be the other fellows, ’ ’ observed 
Chet. 

‘ 4 Come ahead ,’ 9 answered Harry. 

Leaving the road, the Scouts struck across 
the intervening fields in the direction of the 
marsh. Reaching it, they in turn ventured upon 
the board-walk. It proved to be only two planks 
in width, supported on piles about a foot above 
the surface of the marsh, and rather rickety. 

“Be careful not to fall!” warned Chet, who 
was in advance. 

“All right,” responded Harry. 

Ahead of them, the smoke was belching up in 
a dense black cloud, lit now and then by the 
ruddy glare of flames, and spreading under the 
slight wind until it was slowly covering the sky 
in a sort of grayish haze. The factory whistle 
was still shrieking, hoarsely and incessantly; 
and occasionally a confused and indistinct sound 
as of shouting was borne to their ears. The 
railroad track was dotted with people hurrying 
to the scene of the fire. From that distance, 
they looked absurdly like a stream of alarmed 
284 


A LITTLE EXCITEMENT 


ants. The hoys ahead of them on the board- 
walk had reached the further end, and were just 
commencing to mount up onto the solid ground 
of the railroad embankment. 

The smoke was rising in even greater vol- 
umes. All at once, there was a muffled roar of 
some sort, followed by a huge puff of grayish- 
brown smoke, streaked here and there with 
vivid flashes of red. 

“Something must have exploded !” exclaimed 
Chet. “Let’s hurry up!” 

“I wonder if the firemen have come yet,” 
gasped Harry, as he quickened his pace on the 
rickety planks. 

“They probably haven’t had time,” re- 
sponded his brother. “They’ll have to come 
’way around by the road — and that must be 
three or four miles from the town.” 

At length the railroad embankment was 
reached, the tracks themselves crossed, and the 
full spectacle of the fire burst upon them. Great 
banks of smoke were rolling up against the sky, 
and billowy tongues of flame were shooting 
from the windows of the lower story. Already, 
a dense mass of curious onlookers was gathered 
around the southern end of the building, where, 
285 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


for the present at least, the fire was confined. 
This crowd was, with considerable difficulty, 
being held back by a few policemen and a large 
number of Boy Scouts. As Chet had foreseen, 
the firemen had not yet arrived. 

Fully twelve patrols of Boy Scouts, both from 
Portland itself and from Norfolk, must have 
been on hand, and they were struggling desper- 
ately to keep the crowd back in place, pushing 
against them with their staves and occasionally 
even forcing them back bodily, two or three 
Scouts to a man. Despite this, however, the fire 
line, which the police had endeavored to estab- 
lish, was in danger of being broken in one place 
by a vast swelling out of the front row of on- 
lookers, pressed upon from behind by later ar- 
rivals curious to get a closer view of the fire. 

“Over there !” called back Chet, over his 
shoulder. “Let’s help those fellows!” 

The two boys elbowed their way somehow 
through the closely-packed throng, until they 
had managed to reach the front ranks. Then 
Harry suddenly felt the butt end of a Scout 
staff shoved against the pit of his stomach, and 
an exasperated voice shouted: 

“Get back there! No pushing!” 

286 


A LITTLE EXCITEMENT 


Harry was rendered momentarily breathless 
by this polite attention, but Chet came quickly 
to his rescue. 

“We’re Boy Scouts ourselves,” he explained. 
“Let us through!” 

Once inside the fire lines, Chet and Harry 
rushed over to the others, whom they now rec- 
ognized to be members of two or three patrols 
of their own troop. This brought them nearer 
to the burning building, and for the first time 
they realized how intense the heat was. Cin- 
ders, many of them still red hot, were being 
driven by the force of the flames and the rush 
of heated air, and were falling in a constant 
drizzle. Every now and then the wind, which 
fortunately was not high, drove a cloud of 
blinding, strangling smoke around them. Chet 
drew out his handkerchief and tied it loosely 
over his nose and mouth, motioning Harry to 
do the same. This kept out the worst of the 
smoke. 

Driven back by the fierceness of the heat, 
those in the front of the crowd were strug- 
gling to get further away from the fire; but 
those behind were pushing forwards obstinately 
and almost unreasonably. The shouting of the 
287 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

policemen, and even the occasional use of their 
clubs had no permanent effect. The Scouts had 
brought their staves into position, and were 
pressing them directly against the chests of 
those in the front rank, throwing the whole 
weight of their bodies and the entire strength 
of their arms into holding the crowd in place. 
Pressed upon both before and behind, those in 
front were not in a particularly happy frame 
of mind, and there were several muttered re- 
marks. Once, a man tried to push away the 
Scout who was in front of him, but the latter 
stuck to his post. Then the man raised his arm 
as if to strike, and the boy looked him full in 
the face and said: 

4 4 Touch me if you dare, you big mucker !” 

After a momenta hesitation, the man dropped 
his arm. 

All this time, the work of getting out the 
employees who had been caught in the two 
upper stories of the factory had been going on. 
The fire had started, somehow, in the paint 
shop, and had been followed almost instantly 
by an explosion which had filled the building 
with stifling fumes and had cut off escape by 
the main stairway. After that, the fire had 
288 


A LITTLE EXCITEMENT 


spread rapidly, until the entire lower floor at 
that end of the building was a raging furnace. 
The floor of the second story and the thick wall 
on the further side of the staircase were fire- 
proof, however, and the flames had not yet 
reached either of the upper stories, or spread 
further on the ground floor. Nevertheless, they 
were shooting out of the windows and the dense 
volume of black smoke and poisonous fumes 
filled almost the entire building and rose above 
it in a huge cloud, billowy and shot with lurid 
flashes. 

Fortunately, there was a fire escape at the 
end of the building — the metal rungs, hand- 
rails, and platforms of which seemed somehow 
absurdly light — and down this fire escape, as 
the boys learned, had been sent one by one those 
employees — mostly women or girls — who had 
been working on the upper floors when the fire 
broke out. 

The flames were now pouring through the 
lower windows and licking up the brick walls 
of the building. From every side, columns of 
smoke arose and met above the doomed build- 
ing in a huge, swirling cloud, so dense that the 
very sunlight was cut off. The flames had 
289 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


already eaten their way into the central sec- 
tion of the building, and burst up the main 
staircase. All at once, with a loud crash and 
a shower of sparks and red-hot embers, the sec- 
tion of roof over the staircase fell in and a 
great mass of mingled smoke and flame came 
billowing out of the opening, like a pent-up vol- 
cano suddenly released. 

A spontaneous cry, half shout, half gasp, 
went up from the assembled crowd. 

“ Thank heavens there ’s nobody left in the 
building ! ’ ’ somebody exclaimed. 

At that very instant, there arose another cry 
— this time one of terror or despair. 

“ Where ’s Nan Meegan? Anybody seen Nan 
Meegan ? ’ ’ 

There was no response. The group of work- 
ers who had been in the factory when the fire 
started and who had gathered together to one 
side, looked wildly at one another. 

“I seen her trying to get down the stairs !” 
cried a girl. 

4 4 She was with me when I started for the fire 
escape,” added a second. “Then I lost her in 
the smoke.” 

“She’s up there still!” screamed a woman 
290 


A LITTLE EXCITEMENT 


hoarsely. 4 ‘ She must have fainted and been left 
behind ! ’ 9 

Every eye was turned towards the burning 
building. The clouds of smoke poured through 
every window in such volume that it was now 
almost impossible to distinguish the blackened, 
but still secure, walls. Only at one end — where 
the fire escape was placed — was it kept partially 
away by the light breeze which was blowing. 
The fire had gained headway since the collapse 
of the roof, and the flames were gradually eat- 
ing their way along what still remained of it 
and threatening to engulf the entire structure. 
A shudder went through the crowd. Then one 
of the older women in the group tore herself 
away from the rest and ran towards the fire 
escape, crying out : 

“I’ll save you, Nan! I’ll save you!” 

“It’s her sister!” exclaimed somebody near 
Harry Richards. 

A policeman rushed forward and dragged the 
would-be rescuer away forcibly just as she had 
reached the lower end of the fire-escape ladder 
and was starting to climb it. Two or three 
Scouts dashed up to the policeman, took hold 
of Nan Meegan’s sister, who had become hys- 
291 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


terical, dragged her to a place of safety away 
from the falling sparks, and tried to quiet her. 
The policeman himself glanced up at the smok- 
ing inferno above him, at the black smoke bil- 
lowing from the windows, and at the tongues 
of flame which were just commencing to lick 
about the iron rungs of the fire escape. Then 
he started bravely up it, while the onlookers 
gasped. 

He had hardly reached the first landing, 
when a furious puff of smoke came belching out 
and for a moment enveloped him completely. 
For a brief instant, everything was obscured in 
the grayish-black cloud. Then something 
blacker and more solid dropped from it, and 
pitched headlong on the ground. With one ac- 
cord, both the Portland and Norfolk Scouts 
rushed to the assistance of the fallen policeman. 
The crowd, freed at last from the restraint of 
the Scout staves, surged forward in a huge, 
disorderly mass, almost within the shower of 
constantly falling sparks. 

“Keep them back, fellows !” cried the Patrol 
Leaders. 

Many of the Scouts turned in their tracks and 
attempted once more to hold the crowd in check. 
292 


A LITTLE EXCITEMENT 


The rest, either not hearing the command or 
feeling that their duty lay in the other direc- 
tion, kept on. 

Harry Richards had involuntarily started 
forward with the rest. When the order to re- 
turn came, he felt only too glad of the oppor- 
tunity to obey. Then he noticed that several of 
the Scouts, Dick Reynolds among them, were 
running once more towards the building. A 
sudden resolution came to him. 

“I’ll do it!” he said to himself. 

Braving the intense heat and the occasional 
outbursts of smoke, the Scouts went to the aid 
of the policeman. Not stopping to find out the 
extent of his injuries, several of them seized 
him by the arms and legs and dragged him away 
to a place where the air was fresher and the 
smoke and the falling sparks less dangerous. 

Chet Eichards, however, was not among 
these. As soon as he saw that the policeman 
was being taken care of, he tied the handker- 
chief even more carefully over his mouth and 
started up the ladder. 

Harry had been ready to join those who had 
charge of the policeman. WTien he saw what 
Chet was about to do, he stood motionless in 
293 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


indecision for an instant. Then he went up 
after his brother. 

By great good fortune, the breeze had fresh- 
ened slightly, and was blowing most of the 
smoke away from that end of the building. The 
heat at the lower part of the ladder was intense, 
but as Harry mounted higher up it and further 
away from the flames it became slightly cooler, 
if the word cool can be used. Even then, the 
glow from the thoroughly baked walls and the 
occasional blasts of hot air were almost unen- 
durable. For a moment, Harry was on the 
verge of giving it up and returning to the 
ground and safety. Then the sight of Chet’s 
body disappearing through the second story 
window brought his courage back to him with 
a rush. 

‘ ‘ I won’t go back on him now ! ” he determined 
firmly. “He didn’t go back on me!” 

He reached the platform of the fire escape at 
the second story level, and paused for one glance 
at the crowd below. Still held in place by the 
other Scouts, they were staring transfixed at 
the fire escape with its reckless occupant. They 
were shouting, too; but Harry could not hear 
them. 


294 


A LITTLE EXCITEMENT 


Suddenly a little group of Scouts left their 
places in the line and rushed towards the burn- 
ing building. Harry guessed that they were 
intent on rescuing Chet and himself. Then all 
at once they stopped and began shouting up at 
him. Glancing beneath him, Harry saw the 
reason and shuddered. A sheet of flame darted 
from a door opening — which was guarded by 
a supposedly fireproof door — and had enveloped 
the lower part of the ladder, which he had just 
left. Escape that way was cut off. 

Strangely enough, Harry did not fully realize 
what this might mean. All his thoughts now 
were of the brother who had already saved his 
life at great risk to his own. Yes, and one other 
thing! Nobody would ever call him a baby 
again, after this. 

Beyond the outskirts of the crowd, a clanging 
and clattering arose as the belated fire engines 
with their foaming, panting horses came up. 
With them was a reserve squad of policemen. 

Quickly the hose were uncoupled and attached 
to hydrants, men with axes were chopping their 
way through the locked doors at the end of the 
building so as to fight the fire to better advan- 
tage, and the policemen had relieved thq re- 
295 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


maining Scouts of their task of keeping the 
crowd of onlookers back in place. 

Hesitating somewhat, Harry remained stand- 
ing on the platform of the fire escape, peering 
into the smoke-filled room which his brother 
had entered a moment previously. 

“What's the use of my going in toot” he 
asked himself. 

He glanced once more at the scene below. 
Already, the firemen were playing several 
streams on that end of the building, apparently 
with the intention of making the fire escape pos- 
sible of use once more. Harry saw, however, 
that the flames were undiminished and, for the 
first time, a great wave of fear came over him. 
Then he thought of Chet. Had he found the 
missing woman, and if so how soon would he be 
able to drag her to the window? His next 
thought was whether or not he could help him. 
Going close up to the window, he peered into 
the smoky room. Then he started back with 
an exclamation. From somewhere inside had 
come a smothered scream. 


CHAPTER XIX 


PLAYING THE GAME 

T HIS time, Harry did not hesitate. 
Throwing one leg over the sill of the 
window, he climbed through the 

opening. 

“ Where are you, Chet?” he called through 
the handkerchief over his mouth. 

There was no response. Again he called, and 
again. Still there was no answer. Gulping in 
a last mouthful of air, he resolutely closed the 
window behind him, so as to prevent draught 
and keep out the flames. In vain he tried to 
peer through the dense choking atmosphere for 
some sign of his brother. His eyes were water- 
ing and smarting so that even if everything had 
not been hidden by the smoke, he could not have 
seen distinctly. He dropped to his hands and 
knees with his mouth close to the floor, where 
the air was purest. He could not see even a 
foot or so in front of him, and he knew that his 
297 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


only chance was to grope around the room until 
he came upon Chet’s body. 

He found that by keeping his face close to 
the floor, he could breathe without too much 
difficulty. The handkerchief over his mouth 
and nose kept out the smoke. 

Guiding himself by the brick wall, Harry 
crept slowly along, feeling to left and right 
with his hands. Although the floor itself was 
of fireproof material several inches thick, the 
raging furnace below had gradually heated it 
until it burned like a stone pavement on a hot, 
sunny midsummer ’s day. 

The room, which was a large one extending 
the full width of the building, had been used 
for clerks and stenographers. It was not par- 
titioned off, and the various desks and tables 
had merely been placed, more or less indiserim- 
inatingly, about it. Around these desks, and 
other articles of furniture, Harry was obliged 
to feel his way, always groping and exploring 
for the one thing he was seeking. 

He felt himself growing faint and dizzy, and 
the pain from his scorched hands was almost 
unendurable. With a last clear-headed impulse, 
he rose unsteadily to his feet, and felt along 
298 


PLAYING THE GAME 


the wall until his fingers struck the frame of a 
window. He opened it enough to get a breath 
of fresh air, and then closed it again. Bipping 
the lining out of his Scout coat, he tore it into 
two large chunks. With these, he covered his 
hands, and found that the hot floor no longer 
burnt them. His knees, however, he could not 
protect. 

On and on he crept. He had reached the fur- 
ther end of the room now, as he could tell by 
his having turned two corners, and still there 
had been no trace of what he was seeking. 

Below him, the fire was roaring and raging. 
Mingled with it were the hoarse cries or com- 
mands of the men who were fighting it, and the 
confused shouting of the crowd in the distance. 
But Harry had no ears for them. He was con- 
scious of only one thing — the necessity of find- 
ing Chet and saving him. Nothing else mat- 
tered any more! He forgot the cruel pain of 
his blistered hands, forgot the choking smoke 
above his head and the intense, close heat of the 
room, forgot the cutting off of his only means 
of escape and the danger that the flames might 
at any moment penetrate into the room, forgot 
his own sufferings, his own danger, his own in- 
299 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


terests. Everything selfish was swallowed up 
in the one desire to save Chet. 

Still he crept painfully on, always feeling, 
feeling. Once his hand struck a soft object; 
and his heart gave a bound and then stood still 
in suspense. Carefully, he ran his fingers over 
it, with growing disappointment and discour- 
agement. It was small and rather firm to the 
touch. It might be a package of some sort, it 
might be a bundle of clothing, it might even be 
a footstool or a sofa cushion — but it was not a 
human body. 

On he went and on. He had turned another 
comer by this time, and was on his slow way 
back to the front of the building. Even when 
he kept his head close to the floor, his breathing 
had become more difficult. The pain in his eyes 
and in his hands and knees was intolerable, if 
he had stopped to think about it. A feeling of 
despair swept over him. He might as well give 
it up, and save himself if he could. If he could 
once get back to the window from which he had 
started, the firemen might be able to save him 
somehow. He had done all that he could be 
expected to do to save Chet. Now his duty 
was towards himself. 


300 


PLAYING THE GAME 


His outstretched hand hit against something 
hard and flat, and he knew that the front wall 
had been reached again. Once more he rose to 
his feet and felt along the surface before him 
until he had reached a window. He flung it 
open, and drew in some gasping mouthfuls of 
air. The smoke at that end of the building had 
cleared away, and Harry was able to look once 
more upon the crowd below. 

Then he instinctively looked down at the fire 
escape, and his heart sank. A sheet of flames 
was now belching forth from the openings in 
the lower story, and completely enveloping it. 
Tongues of flame were even licking hungrily 
nearer and nearer to the second story window. 

Harry glanced despairingly around for the 
firemen. Then a wild hope came over him. A 
hook and ladder wagon had been backed as 
close to the building as the flames permitted 
and an extension ladder had been run up. On 
this ladder were two firemen. Others were play- 
ing powerful streams of water upon them and 
around them to keep away the bursting flames. 
Harry shouted and waved his arms. 

“Here I am!” he cried. 

For an instant, the thought flashed into his 
301 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


mind that he would he a hero among the other 
boys, when he got back to them. Then he felt 
a revulsion of feeling, not unlike that which he 
had had when the snake bit him. 

“No!” he said to himself. “I’d really be a 
coward ! 9 1 

He tried to think how Chet himself, or even 
Dick Reynolds would act in his place. Then a 
nobler motive took hold of him. 

“Pm going to save Chet!” he vowed. 

Again Harry dropped to the floor and tried 
to think. Evidently, Chet was nowhere along 
near the walls of the room. Then where was 
he? That was what he was going to find out. 

Leaving the friendly wall, he groped his way 
boldly into the middle of the room. He crawled 
more quickly now, knowing that with all the 
breadth and length of the floor to be searched 
there was no time to lose. 

Unable to see through the blinding, stinging 
smoke, he crept about almost aimlessly, always 
feeling before and to either side of him, hoping 
against hope. For hours, as it seemed, he kept 
on his way, striking against pieces of furniture 
and hitting his head on sharp corners. Grad- 
ually, he lost all sense of direction, and went 
302 



“With a thrill both of horror and hope, he . . . felt it all 
over with his blistered hands.” 




PLAYING THE GAME 


creeping and feeling blindly and helplessly, 
knowing only that somewhere in the room lay 
the one person whom he suddenly realized he 
cared more for than anybody else on earth, ex- 
cept his mother. 

Then all at once his knee struck against some- 
thing soft and yielding. With a thrill both of 
horror and hope, he pounced upon it and felt 
it all over with his blistered hands. Then, above 
everything else, he felt a wild throb of joy. It 
was the body of a man or boy, and could be 
nobody else but Chet. 

Taking off his Scout scarf, he tied the hands 
of his insensible brother together in front of 
him. Then putting his own head through 
them, he started once more to crawl along the 
floor, dragging the other with him. 

Where the window leading to the fire escape 
was, Harry had now no means of knowing. He 
could not see through the thick smoke, and he 
had no means of telling in what part of the 
room he was. He felt another attack of faint- 
ness come over him, but he resolutely shook it 
off. Now that he had found Chet, he was going 
to save him ! 

Despite the weight of the body dragging un- 
303 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


der him, Harry kept doggedly ahead. The heat 
had now become less intense, as the firemen got 
the blaze under control; but Harry did not 
notice it. All his energy was bent on finding 
the window which led to the fire escape. The 
faintness came back more strongly, and with 
it Harry ’s new-found courage began to ooze 
away. 

“ What’s the use?” he asked himself. 

Then another idea came to him. 

1 ‘ The firemen can ’t be so very far away now , 9 f 
he thought, rather confusedly. “I won’t give 
up until I have to!” 

Suddenly his outstretched hand struck an ob- 
ject which seemed somehow familiar. He felt 
it over carefully, and could hardly restrain a 
whoop of exultation. It was the same that he 
had encountered earlier in his search. He knew 
where he was now! 

In another instant, he had reached the wall, 
and he crawled along it, slowly and painfully, 
until a sharp blow on the forehead told him 
that the front wall of the room had at length 
been reached. Now everything was all right! 

Exploring the surface of the wall carefully, 
he soon hit upon the sill of the window which 
304 


PLAYING THE GAME 


led to safety and life. Freeing his neck from 
his brother’s arms, Harry pulled himself up- 
right, and flung the lower sash open to its full 
width. 

A rush of fresh air greeted him, and for a 
moment Harry lay hanging over the sill of the 
window gasping for breath, while the cooling 
breeze gradually drove away the dizziness. 
Cool though it seemed to him by comparison 
with the atmosphere of the room, the smoke 
was still swirling around the fire escape from 
below, and was lit by a strange brightness. 

When Harry recovered his senses enough to 
look about him, the first thing he saw was that 
the flames were now bellowing forth and en- 
gulfing the flimsy iron frame work of the fire- 
escape ladders and balconies. The paint on 
their rungs and rods had blistered and cracked, 
leaving the metal red with heat. Harry felt a 
throb of the most sickening fear he had yet 
known. With escape so near, the only means 
had been cut off! 

But was it the only means? Harry remem- 
bered the firemen and the extension ladder, 
and looked for them. 

Down below, the crowd was staring at the 
305 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

burning building — the lower end still envel- 
oped in smoke — at the panting fire engines and 
the long lines of bose stretched like serpents 
across the ground, at the excited men running 
to and fro, and finally at the extension ladder 
with the firemen on it, still ten or twelve feet 
away from the building and prevented from 
going closer by the sheet of flames which was 
bursting forth and enveloping the flimsy fire 
escape. 

Then a shift of wind cleared away the smoke 
momentarily, and the crowd caught sight of the 
figure in the window. A hoarse murmur went 
up, swelling into a cheer, and then dying again 
into the silence of uncertainty. Rescue seemed 
impossible. 

The firemen on the ladder had also seen the 
figure. One of them shouted something to those 
on the ground, a few orders were issued, and 
then the wagon carrying the ladder was slowly 
backed nearer the building, and into what 
seemed almost certain death. 

But three powerful streams of water were 
now directed upon the ladder and upon the fire- 
men it carried. Before this onslaught of its 
deadly enemy, the threatening fire hissed and 
306 


PLAYING THE GAME 


spluttered, and strove vainly to reach, its prey. 
A wall of water held it back. 

Nearer and nearer came the ladder, with the 
flames seething and darting powerlessly around 
it. Harry dragged the unconscious form at his 
feet up onto the window sill and stood there, 
waiting. Some of the streams of water played 
on the ladder fell on him too, and drenched him 
to the skin with a grateful, reviving coolness. 
Foot by foot, the ladder approached, until at 
length it was against the outer rail of the bal- 
cony. Then one of the firemen leaped down 
from it, crossed over to the window at a stride, 
and grasped Harry in his strong arms. 

“Take Chet first,’ ’ begged Harry, lifting his 
brother. 

Without a word, the fireman seized Chet in 
his grasp and passed him over to the second 
fireman, who had remained on the ladder. As 
he did so, Harry fainted. The fireman lifted 
the unconscious boy and throwing him over his 
shoulder like a sack of meal, regained the lad- 
der himself, and the perilous descent to the 
ground began. 

Only the wall of water which was continually 
played around them and upon them kept them 
307 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 


from the enveloping flames. The drenching tor- 
rents first revived Harry and Chet and then 
almost strangled them. 

A hush had settled over the crowd, both at 
the daring of the rescue and at the danger 
which attended it. Now, as the firemen with 
their burdens stepped to the ground, a spon- 
taneous cheer burst forth, and the other firemen 
who were nearby came up and shook hands with 
their comrades. 

“I thought you were goners that time, sure !” 
one of them remarked cheeringly. 

About half an hour later, Harry began to 
have a hazy impression that he was in some 
sort of whirlpool, in which confused and indis- 
tinct visions passed around him. Gradually, 
the visions became more definite, and he slowly 
began to realize that he was alive. Then, as in 
a dream he heard a voice say, 

1 ‘Harry !” 

This did not interest him especially, but he 
suddenly became aware of a smarting sensa- 
tion in the palms of his hands. He tried to 
puzzle out what this was, but soon gave it up. 

‘ ‘ Where am I?” he asked faintly. 

Again he heard the name, “ Harry .’ 9 This 
308 


PLAYING THE GAME 


time, realization partially came back to him, 
and the thought that was uppermost in his 
mind found expression. 

“How’s Chet?” he asked. 

“He’s all right,” answered Dick Reynold’s 
voice in his ear. “Now keep quiet.” 

Blissfully, Harry resigned himself to rest. 
Then another question popped into his head. 

“Did they get the woman out?” he inquired. 

“There wasn’t any woman,” came the re- 
sponse. “It was all a mistake.” 

Just at that moment, there was a commotion 
among the group of Scouts surrounding Chet 
and Harry and protecting them from the gaze 
of curious onlookers. A boy in Scout uniform 
and with one hand bandaged and in a sling had 
come up to them and grasped Perry Brett by 
the sleeve. 

“It’s Sissy Smith!” exclaimed somebody. 

“What are you doing here?” questioned 
Perry. 

Sissy was somewhat out of breath from run- 
ning and excitement. 

“The Scout Commissioner sent me to tell 
you that you needn’t hunt for Ray Clark any 
more!” he informed. 


309 


THE NORFOLK BOY SCOUTS 

“Why not?” asked Perry in surprise. “Do 
you know?” 

“He’s come home of himself,” replied Sissy. 

The following afternoon, Sissy Smith was 
seated on the front steps of his home when he 
saw a boy come out of the adjoining house. He 
waved his arm and called out shrilly : 

“Hello, Ray!” 

Ray stood a moment in indecision. Then he 
walked over and took a seat on the steps beside 
his cousin. 

“I had a talk with father last night,” he de- 
clared abruptly. 

“Did he lick you?” inquired Sissy. 

An expression which was almost disgust 
came over Ray’s face. 

“No,” he responded shortly. “I wish he 
had.” 

“You do!” exclaimed Sissy, to whom a 
“licking” was one of the most serious things 
imaginable. 

“Then it would be over with,” explained 
Ray. “ Now it isn ’t. ’ ’ 

“Why isn’t it?” asked Sissy. 

Ray looked as though he were about to be- 
310 


PLAYING THE GAME 

come angry at the question. Then he controlled 
himself. 

“I’ll tell you what happened,’ ’ he said con- 
fidentially. “See what you think of it.” 

“Wasn’t he mad?” pursued Sissy, whose 
thoughts were evidently centered on parental 
displeasure and the manner of its expression. 

“He told me he’d send me out to Mexico, if 
I decided that I really wanted to go,” stated 
Ray. 

Sissy was taken aback by the unexpectedness 
of the remark. 

“Gee!” he commented, at length. “That’s 
just what you want, isn’t it?” 

“No, it isn’t!” snapped Ray. 

“Why not?” demanded Sissy, in surprise. 

“At least I don’t think it is ! I haven’t quite 
made my mind up yet.” 

“You bet I would!” exclaimed Sissy. Ray 
looked at him a moment. 

4 ‘ Maybe you would ! ” he retorted. ‘ ‘ But that 
doesn’t say that I would!” 

“Why not?” asked Sissy again. Ray looked 
thoughtful. 

“Don’t say anything to anybody about all 
this,” he cautioned. 


311 


THE NORFOLK ROY SCOUTS 


“I won’t/ ’ promised Sissy. 

“Well, then, father talked pretty straight to 
me,” continued Ray, who felt like unburdening 
himself to somebody. “He told me that I was 
only acting like a baby by running away just 
because things didn’t quite suit me. He said 
that if I was any sort of a man, I’d have stayed 
and fought it out, and made things come out 
right whether they wanted to or not; and that 
the only kind of man that really counted was 
the one who ‘did things’ and played the game 
right.” 

“What do you mean by ‘Playing the game’!” 
interrupted Sissy. 

“Doing things the way they ought to be done 
— not just the way you feel like doing them,” 
responded Ray. “He told me that anything 
that’s worth getting is worth fighting for; and 
that the harder the fight the more satisfaction 
there is in winning out in the end. He said that 
having to buck up against things was what 
made men out of fellows — and that if they ran 
away from trouble, as I was doing, they were 
simply hurting their own chances and acting 
like babies. I hadn’t thought of it in quite that 
;way before.” 


312 


PLAYING THE GAME 


“Was that all Uncle Dick said?” inquired 
Sissy, glad to be taken into Bay’s confidence. 

“Not quite. He told me that the man who 
bucked up against trouble and put up a good 
fight was the man who amounted to something 
in the world, and who did the sort of tilings 
that really count. Also, he said that to be able 
to do things, in any line, a man needed all the 
training he could get, and that he wanted to 
get the best that he could. He said that I 
hadn’t had enough general training yet, even 
apart from the engineering, to be able to get 
anywhere if I started in at the mines, as I 
wanted to do. He ended up by telling me that 
if I still felt like going out to Mexico, he would 
try to get a job for me with my uncle, and pay 
my expenses going there.” 

“Gee, that was nice of him!” declared Sissy. 
“What are you going to do?” 

Ray had finally come to a decision. 

“I’m going to stay and fight it out,” he said. 


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